\.  '  ^ 


&;$?^^ !  c 


NiVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA         LIBRARY   OF   THE    UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA  Lll 


myERSITV  OF  CUIFORNIA 


i 


LIBRtRY  OF  THE   UmVEflSITY  OF   CUIFORtllA 


k 


u  = 


aiMi  = 


i^ 


M 


ttmVEniTY  OF   CillFORIIU 
/ft):      .  ._.  ^ 


^ 


I 


LIBRARY   OF  THE   UNIVERSITY  OF   CUIFORNU 


p  ^^==^^^11^  fj^"^^  -^^-s^--  q  ^ 


UmVERSITY  OF   G(LIFOnHI« 


LIBRARY   OF   THE    UNIVERSITY   OF  I^AltFORNIA 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/famousintroductiOOwarnrich 


To 
ROBERT  SHARP,  Ph.D. 

STUDENT  AKD  SCHOLAR 

Professor  of  English  in  Tulane  Universitp 

THIS  BOOK  IS  AFFECnONATELT  DEDICATED 


1J)4G11 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK  . 

I     Preface     xi 

II     Introductory  Essay xiii 

III  John  Heminge  and  Henrie  Condell    /u  1^3     x 

Biographical  Sketches 1 

To  the  Great  Variety  of  Readers 3 

IV  Nicholas  Rowe     ^l^'^     C^ 

Biographical  Sketch 5 

Account  of  the  Life,  etc.       . . .  ' 6 

"     V     Alexander  Pope      /7  i^V  jS 

Biographical  Sketch 29 

Preface       30 

'    VI     Lewis  Theobald        ^    .,      .  ^ 

Biographical  Sketch     ... 50 

Preface       51 

VII     Sir  Thomas  Hanmer 

Biographical  Sketch     85 

Preface      86 

VIII     William  Warburton         ' 

Biographical  Sketch ...     90 

Preface      91 

IX     Samuel  Johnson 

Biographical  Sketch     110 

Preface       Ill 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTBR  PAGB 

X     George  Steevens 

Biographical  Sketch     171 

Advertisement  to  the  Reader         172 

XI     Edward  Capell 

Biographical  Sketch     186 

Introduction         187 

XII     Isaac  Reed 

Biographical  Sketch     225 

Advertisement        225 

XIII     Edmund  M alone 

Biographical   Sketch     229 

Preface       231 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Nicholas  Rowe     Frontispiece 

Alexander  Pope     Facing  page      30 


The  Distrest  Poet    Bi/  Hogarth 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer      

Wm.  Warburton 

Samuel  Johnson     

George  Steevens ... 

Edward  Capell     

Isaac  Reed     

Edmund  Malone    


52 
86 
92 
J12 
172 
188 
226 
230 


PREFACE 

The  editor  hopes  that  he  has  performed  a  real  service 
for  students  in  thus  bringing  together,  in  one  volume, 
the  most  notable  utterances  of  Shakespearean  criticism 
during  the  eighteenth  century. 

The  young  reader  is  forever  happening  upon  allusions 
to  the  opinions  of  Johnson,  of  Pope,  of  Theobald,  etc., 
without  being  able  to  locate  the  references.  The  orig- 
inals of  these  elusive  comments  are  scattered  through 
many  editions  of  the  poet's  works,  and  have  never  been 
available  for  the  average  reader,  save  in  the  form  of  pro- 
legomena to  expensive  publications,  usually  either  be- 
yond the  purse,  or  otherwise  inaccessible  to  the  great 
majority  of  readers. 

That  this  body  of  criticism  and  interpretation  should 
be  within  reach  of  students  both  young  and  old,  I  have 
long  been  convinced,  and  it  has  been  a  labour  of  love  to 
collect  and  illustrate  the  contents  of  this  volume.  The 
biographical  and  explanatory  notes  have  been  made  as 
brief  as  is  consistent  with  clearness  and  accuracy. 
The  portraits  are  reproductions  of  old  engravings 
gathered  from  many  sources.  Search  has  been  made  in 
vain  for  prints  of  Heminge  and  Condell,  as  well  as  of 
Sir  Thomas  North,  the  translator,  whose  work  was  used 
by  Shakespeare  in  the  construction  of  the  Roman  plays. 

The  introductory  essay  is  an  attempt  to  estimate  the 
critical  value  of  these  famous  prefaces  and  to  indicate 
the  special  contribution  of  their  several  authors  to 
Shakespearean  interpretation. 


FAMOUS  INTRODUCTIONS 

TO 
SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS 


^  Of  THE  ^^ 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


NICHOLAS   ROWE 


Page 


FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

TO 

SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS 


BY  THE 
NOTABLE  EDITORS  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH  CENTURY 

EDITED     WITH     A    CRITICAL     INTRODUCTION, 
BIOGRAPHICAL     AND    EXPLANATORY     NOTES 


BY 
BEVERLEY  WARNER,  D.D. 

MEMBER   OF  THE   NEW    YORK    SHAKESPEARE 
SOCIETY.      AUTHOR   OF     *  *  ENGLISH   HISTORY 

IN     Shakespeare's    plays,'*     etc.,    etc. 


^ 


NEW    YORK,    DODD,     MEAD 
AND      COMPANY,      M   C   M   V   I 


Copyright,   1906,  bt 
DoDD,  Mead  &  Comfant 


Published  March,  1906 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

The  eternal  charm  of  Shakespeare  to  the  English-speak- 
ing peoples  is  not  that  of  an  exotic  forced  into  bloom 
by  the  nourishing  of  the  commentators.  There  were  other 
playwrights  and  poets  in  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  and 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  centuries,  whose  puppets 
passed  across  the  stage  of  the  Globe  and  Blackfriars 
theatres,  as  popular  in  their  day  perhaps  as  the  great 
dramatist.  The  play-going  world  of  the  twentieth  cen- 
tury knows  them  not  at  all,  and  even  to  students  of 
literature  they  are  hardly  more  than  lists  of  names.  A 
few  stray  bits  of  flotsam  and  jetsam  from  the  vessels  of 
Marlowe,  Jonson  and  others  of  that  day,  have  floated 
down  the  stream  of  time.  But  stately  and  fair  swept 
on  the  precious  bark  of  Shakespeare's  lading,  breast- 
ing the  rude  waves  of  the  Puritan  tempest,  and  riding 
the  shallows  of  the  French  reaction,  reaching  safely  the 
ports  of  a  new  world,  its  bulk  undiminished  and  its  value 
unharmed. 

There  was  no  criticism  properly  so  called  in  the  seven- 
teenth century.  So  far  from  any  attempt  to  purify  the 
text  of  Shakespeare,  every  actor  on  the  stage  felt  him- 
self authorised  to  corrupt  it  by  his  own  additions  or 
emendations.  In  printing  the  Folio  of  1623,  the  first 
complete  edition  of  the  dramatist's  works,  John  Heminge 
and  Henry  Condell  rendered  the  most  precious  service 
to  English  literature. 

The  originals,  from  which  more  than  one-half  of  the 
plays  were  printed  in  that  volume,  have  never  seen  the 

xiti 


xiv  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

light.  Perhaps  they  were  destroyed  as  useless  after  the 
Folio  went  to  press,  or  were  worn  out  in  service  in 
the  greenroom. 

How  much  or  how  little  revision  was  performed  by  the 
joint  editors  no  one  can  say.  The  text  of  this  Folio  has 
become  the  foundation  for  all  succeeding  texts,  and  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that  the  actor-managers  performed 
their  task  with  fidelity,  however  imperfectly,  and  that 
they  were  really  editors,  not  merely  reprinters  of  blotted 
manuscripts. 

The  Folio  of  1623  is  prefaced,  among  other  tributes 
in  prose  and  verse  to  the  poet's  honour,  by  the  first  of 
these  famous  Introductions  by  which  the  spirit  of 
Shakespeare's  dramatic  work  has  been  interpreted  to 
readers  and  students. 

From  this  brief  foreword  "  To  the  Great  Variety  of 
Readers,"  we  extract  some  valuable  information  as  to  the 
condition  of  the  dramatic  stage  during  the  Elizabethan 
cycle,  as  well  as  concerning  the  plays  of  Shakespeare 
himself.  The  semi-humorous  opening  paragraphs  show 
no  shyness  on  the  editor's  part  at  standing  in  the  market 
place  with  wares  to  sell. 

"  Read,  and  censure.  Doe  so,  but  buy  it  first.  That 
doth  best  commend  a  Book,  the  Stationer  saies." 

From  this  preface  we  learn  that  Shakespeare  had  not 
edited  the  plays  for  a  collected  edition.  "  A  thing  worthy 
to  have  been  wished."  Nevertheless  there  is  abundant 
evidence  that  they  were  edited  after  a  fashion,  as  many 
of  them  that  had  appeared  in  single  quartos  before  and 
after  Shakespeare's  death  up  to  the  year  1623,  show 
changes  and  alterations  in  the  Folio  which  presuppose 
an  editor's  hand.  We  argue,  therefore,  that  the  other 
plays  received  the  same  attention.     Indeed  the  players 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xv 

declare  as  much.  They  speak  of  former  publications  as 
"  maimed  and  deformed  by  the  frauds  and  stealths  of 
injurious  impostors  "  "  now  offered  to  your  view  cured 
and  perfect  of  their  limbes." 

To  speak  thus  confidently  the  players  must  have  had 
in  their  possession  the  manuscripts  in  original  or 
authenticated  copies.  "  His  mind  and  hand  went 
together,"  continues  the  preface,  "  and  what  he  thought 
he  uttered  with  that  easinesse  that  we  have  scarce  re- 
ceived from  him  a  blot  in  his  papers." 

The  judgment  of  his  fellow-players  that  "  His  wit 
can  no  more  be  hid  than  it  can  be  lost,"  registered  a  few 
years  after  his  death,  has  since  been  adopted  in  the  high 
court  of  letters. 

With  this  word  of  prophecy  the  thirty-six  plays  were 
committed  to  posterity.  Three  times  in  the  seventeenth 
century  they  were  reprinted,  1632,  1664,  1685,  with  the 
addition  of  seven  doubtful  plays,  only  one  of  which 
("  Pericles,"  and  that  not  without  dispute)  holds  place 
in  the  modern  Shakespearean  canon. 

The  Puritan  reaction  and  the  Royalist  restoration 
alike  acted  against  the  frequent  production  of  the 
Shakespearean  drama;  the  one  by  closing  the  theatres, 
the  other  by  debauching  them.  A  revival  of  hybrid 
adaptations  by  poets  who  sought  to  improve  or  revamp 
the  dramas  to  suit  the  public  taste  characterised  the  early 
part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  In  the  first  decade  of 
that  century,  however,  arose  the  beginnings  of  that 
school  of  Shakespearean  criticism  to  which  modern 
students  and  readers  are  so  deeply  indebted. 

To  Nicholas  Rowe,  under-Secretary  of  State  and  poet 
laureate,  belongs  the  honour  of  introducing  Shakespeare 
to  the  world,  by  means  of  a  formal  biography  and  handy 


xvi  INTRODUCTORY   ESSAY 

volume  edition  of  the  plays.  Rowe's  "Life,"  which  pref- 
aces the  seven  octavo  volumes  (1709),  I  esteem  as  the 
most  important  of  all  contributions  to  Shakespearean 
literature,  next  to  the  plays  printed  from  the  lost  manu- 
scripts which  Heminge  and  Condell  included  in  their 
Folio.  He  took  great  pains  to  gather  all  available 
material  for  a  story  of  the  poet's  life,  most  of  which 
would  surely  have  been  lost  to  posterity  had  it  not  been 
for  his  research.  Later  editors  refer  in  scornful  or 
complaining  tones  to  the  "  meagre  account "  given  by 
Rowe.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  pretty  much  all  we 
know  of  Shakespeare  even  to  this  day  is  contained  in 
that  same  meagre  account.  Very  few  additional  facts 
have  been  discovered  by  later  students.  Documents  have 
been  unearthed,  leases,  wills,  and  stationers'  registers 
have  been  exploited,  but  within  those  few  octavo  pages 
of  Rowe  are  included  all  of  the  essential  story  that  will 
ever  be  known  of  the  career  of  William  Shakespeare. 

The  textual  value  of  Rowe's  edition  is  not  great.  He 
merely  reprinted  the  fourth  Folio,  which  was  itself  a 
reprint  that  had  gathered  errors  through  the  careless 
typographical  work  of  the  seventeenth  century.  But 
his  dramatic  instinct  and  experience  led  him  to  perform 
a  great  service  for  the  host  of  .editors  and  readers  who 
were  to  follow  him,  in  dividing  all  of  the  plays  into  acts 
and  scenes,  prefixing  lists  of  dramatis  personce,  and  so 
preparing  them  for  intelligent  study. 

Not  until  the  last  great  edition  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury appeared,  that  of  Edmond  Malone  with  his  chrono- 
logical order  of  the  composition  of  the  plays,  and  a 
history  of  the  English  stage,  was  there  a  contribution  to 
Shakespeare  study  as  notable  for  its  intrinsic  value,  as 
this  of  Rowe. 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xvii 

How  little  the  first  commentator  presaged  what  was 
to  come  on  the  Rialto  of  criticism,  we  learn  from  his 
deprecatory  statement — '^  And  though  the  works  of 
Mr.  Shakespeare  may  seem  to  many  not  to  want  a  com- 
mentary, yet  I  fancy  some  little  account  of  the  man 
himself  may  not  be  thought  improper  to  go  along  with 
them." 

It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  this  essay  to  meddle  with 
questions  of  textual  criticism,  but  with  the  contents  and 
value  of  those  introductions,  prefaces,  and  advertise- 
ments of  the  eighteenth  century  editors  which  occupy 
themselves  partly  with  estimates  of  their  predecessors, 
and  partly  with  setting  forth  and  defending  the  canons 
of  criticism  by  which  the  editors'  own  contentions  are  to 
be  judged. 

No  one  editor  seems  ever  to  have  been  satisfied  with 
any  other's  practice  of  editorial  discrimination.  The 
eighteenth  century  welkin  rang  in  the  most  approved 
fashion  with  cries  of  the  contestants  in  the  arena  of 
criticism.  It  must  be  admitted  that  a  great  mass  of  com- 
ment was  directed  towards  the  critics  rather  than  fixed 
upon  the  Shakespeare  text. 

Alexander  Pope  led  the  way  in  this  battle  of  the  thumb- 
biters.  With  his  edition  (1725)  we  open  the  pages  of 
that  enormous  library  of  emendations,  omissions,  notes, 
comments,  and  new  readings  which  has  gained  in  bulk, 
if  not  always  in  value,  ever  since. 

His  introduction  is  one  of  the  best,  as  it  was  the  first, 
of  the  all-round  critical  reviews  of  Shakespeare's  work. 
He  neither  worshipped  with  bespattering  praise,  nor 
defiled  with  superficial  censure.  His  mental  attitude  is 
much  like  that  of  Richard  Grant  White  among  modern 
editors.     Grant  White  is  cantankerous  but  honest,  and 


xviii  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

not  afraid  to  express  his  convictions.  Shakespeare  has 
become  so  idealised,  that  like  some  characters  in  history, 
many  students  think  he  can  do  no  wrong.  When  an 
evident  wrong,  therefore,  appears,  the  attempt  is  made 
to  throw  the  responsibility  of  weak  or  unworthy  lines 
upon  some  other  pen.  Beyond  a  doubt  Shakespeare 
collaborated.  The  acute  critic  can  trace  (with  no  fear 
of  contradiction  save  at  the  hand  of  other  acute  critics) 
exactly  where  the  Stratford  poet  ends  and  Fletcher  or 
Hey  wood  begins.  But  to  attribute  all  of  the  gold  to  the 
titular  author,  and  all  of  the  alloy  to  those  who  worked 
with  him,  or  whose  works  he  redacted,  is  folly.  Pope 
struck  the  key  in  which  Shakespearean  study  should  be 
carried  on,  when  he  says :  "  It  must  be  owned  that  with 
all  these  great  excellencies  he  has  almost  as  great 
defects,  and  that  as  he  has  certainly  written  better,  he 
has  as  certainly  written  worse  than  any  other." 

Pope  defended,  moreover,  that  lack  of  an  observance 
of  those  unities  of  time,  place,  and  action  which  became 
the  battleground  of  later  critics,  and  which  has  been  so 
admirably  discussed  by  a  recent  writer.^  But  Pope's 
defence  was  of  what  he  himself  considered  a  fault.  He 
argues  that  Shakespeare's  mission  was  to  write  to  the 
people,  and  that  he  did  what  the  people  wanted,  under- 
stood and  rejoiced  in.  Dr.  Johnson,  in  his  famous  intro- 
duction, strikes  a  truer  note,  by  defending  Shakespeare's 
art.  The  evolution  of  the  drama  since  the  sixteenth 
century,  undoubtedly  influenced  by  the  example  of  the 
Master,  has  been  away  from  the  classical  models,  for 
which  Ben  Jonson  was  so  sedulous,  and  of  which  Shake- 
speare was  contemptuously  and  deliberately  careless. 

^  Prof.  Thos.  R.  Lounsbury  (Yale  University)  in  "  Shakespeare  as 
a  Dramatic  Artist.'* 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xix 

Pope  also  lifted  his  voice,  not  very  wisely  in  my  judg- 
ment, in  defence  of  Shakespeare's  "  learning,"  which 
has  also  been  a  famous  battleground.  The  advocates 
of  the  encyclopsedic  knowledge  of  our  poet  leave  out  of 
account  the  sources  from  which  he  drew  most,  if  not  all 
of  his  plays.  He  is  no  more  responsible  for  the  knowl- 
edge of  "  natural  philosophy,  mechanics,  ancient  and 
modern  history,  poetical  learning  and  mythology,"  the 
"  customs,  rites,  and  manners  of  antiquity,"  the  law  and 
medicine  and  geography  treated  in  the  works,  than  he 
is  for  the  false  historical  movements  in  "  King  John," 
or  the  addition  of  a  sea  coast  to  Bohemia  in  "  A  Winter's 
Tale."  He  took  them  from  the  same  sources  whence  he 
drew  his  plots. 

The  knowledge  of  Shakespeare  was  transferred  from 
his  foundation  plays  and  other  sources.  He  was  an 
omnivorous  reader,  but  even  this  seems  to  have  been 
limited  to  the  novels,  plays,  poems,  etc.,  out  of  which 
he  was  quarrying  the  immortal  dramas  which  bear  his 
name. 

The  previous  editors,  Heminge  and  Condell,  and  Rowe, 
are  dealt  with  by  Pope  in  a  manner  which  becomes 
amusingly  familiar  with  each  succeeding  edition;  while 
he  (from  lack  of  that  patient  collation  of  copies  which 
is  the  dullest  but  most  necessary  part  of  a  commentator's 
work)  fell  into  many  grievous  errors  which  later  critics, 
especially  Malone,  gleefully  held  up  to  pubHc  scorn. 

A  delicious  bit  of  the  approved  mode  of  handling 
others  who  dared  to  walk  in  the  same  paths  is  the  follow- 
ing preface  to  the  eighth  volume  of  his  second  edition, 
apropos  of  Theobald's  critical  attempts :  ^ 

'Isaac  Reed  notes  this,  crediting  Mr.  Qialmer's  "Supplemental 
Apology"  as  his  authority. 


XX  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

"Since  the  publication  of  our  first  edition,  there 
having  been  some  attempts  upon  Shakespeare,  pub- 
hshed  by  Lewis  Theobald  (which  he  would  not  communi- 
cate during  the  time  wherein  that  edition  was  preparing 
for  the  press,  when  we  by  public  advertisement  did  re- 
quest the  assistance  of  all  lovers  of  this  author),  we 
have  inserted  in  this  impression,  as  many  of  'em  as  are 
judged  of  any  the  least  advantage  to  the  poet;  the  whole 
amounting  to  about  twenty-five  words.  .  .  .  And 
we  purpose  for  the  future  to  do  the  same  with  re- 
spect to  any  other  persons,  who  either  through  candour 
or  vanity  shall  communicate  or  publish,  the  least  things 
tending  to  the  illustration  of  our  author." 

Lewis  Theobald  followed  Pope  (1733)  and  laid  him- 
self open  to  that  irritable  poet's  caustic  reference,  by 
remarking  that  he,  Pope,  seldom  corrected  the  text  but  to 
its  injury,  and  "  he  frequently  inflicted  a  wound  where 
he  intended  a  cure."  Pope's  first  version  of  the  "  Dun- 
ciad  "  appearing  about  this  time,  in  which  Theobald  was 
made  the  official  hero  of  dulness,  may  be  thought  to 
justify  the  latter's  remark  that  "  His  libels  have  been 
thrown  out  with  so  much  inveteracy  that,  not  to  dispute 
whether  they  should  come  from  a  Christian,  they  leave  it 
a  question  whether  they  could  come  from  a  man.^* 

Theobald's  preface  is  turgid  and  high  sounding  and 
gives  evidence  that  he  is  overcome  by  the  attempt  to 
estimate  the  poet's  genius.  He  gives  liberal  space  to 
biographical  details,  and  adds  a  few  unimportant  facts 
to  the  Account  of  Rowe.  One  of  these  is  the  visit  of 
Queen  Henrietta  to  Stratford  during  the  Civil  War,  and 
her  occupancy  of  New  Place. 

Theobald  felt  called  upon  to  apologise  for  Shakes- 
peare's  offences   against  chronology,   etc.,   attributing 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxi 

them  not  to  ignorance  "  but  to  the  too  powerful  blaze 
of  his  imagination."  I  have  already  noted  that  they  are 
properly  to  be  attributed  to  the  sources  from  whence  he 
drew  them.  There  are  still  worshippers,  however,  who 
seek  to  explain  and  account  for  them  on  other  grounds. 
His  summing  up  is  an  arraignment  of  Pope's  method, 
or  lack  of  method,  and  although  Theobald's  work  was 
bitterly  attacked  both  by  Pope  and  his  ally  Warburton, 
the  sifting  of  the  centuries  accords  him  a  higher  place 
in  textual  criticism  than  either  of  his  great  detractors, 
although  Pope's  preface  is  by  far  the  more  valuable. 
Running  through  Theobald's  sentences  we  cannot  but 
see  that  his  grief  was  more  over  his  own  wounded  vanity 
than  that  the  great  poet  was  mishandled. 

Sir  Thomas  Hanmer,  who  followed  the  hero  of  Pope's 
vitriolic  verse,  was  a  gentleman  of  elegant  leisure  and 
abundant  means,  who  devoted  himself  in  his  latter  years 
to  the  production  of  an  edition  of  the  ppet's  works  which 
would  be  representative  of  the  poet's  place  in  English 
letters.  He  was  an  exception  to  the  run  of  backbiting 
critics,  praised  everything  that  had  been  achieved  before 
him,  and  prefaced  a  very  beautiful  set  of  the  works  in 
six  quarto  volumes  published  by  the  University  of 
Oxford  (1744),  with  a  short  but  stately  preface,  chiefly 
notable  rather  than  valuable  for  his  contention  that  a 
great  deal  of  what  he  called  "  low  stuff,"  ribaldry,  coarse 
jests,  etc.,  were  interpolated  by  the  players  to  please  the 
vulgar  audiences  before  which  they  played.  There  is 
much  truth  in  this,  but  surely  not  enough  to  warrant 
the  cutting  out  of  a  whole  scene  in  "  Henry  V.  "  because 
the  editor  considered  it  "  improper  in  French  and  unin- 
telligible in  English." 

Hanmer's  .own  delicacy  of  mind  and  elegance  of  style 


xxii  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

induced  him  to  leave  out  many  such  passages  which 
were  purely  Shakespearean.  This  contribution  to  the 
increasing  number  of  editions  of  Shakespeare's  works 
deserves  to  be  remembered  as  the  first  official  recognition 
by  the  great  Oxford  University  of  the  poet  who 
achieved  the  highest  eminence  in  English  letters  without 
passing  through  her  preparatory  halls. 

Bishop  Warburton,  who  followed  closely  upon  Han- 
mer  (1747),  was  the  first  of  the  long  line  of  clergymen 
who  made  Shakespeare  the  companion  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testaments.  And  he  devoted  a  portion  of  his 
lively  preface  to  a  defence  of  his  secular  studies.  He 
assumes  St.  Chrysiostom  as  a  godfather  in  poetic 
studies,  who  is  known  to  have  slept  with  Aristophanes 
under  his  pillow.  In  this  connection  he  writes  something 
that  gives  chief  value  in  my  opinion  to  his  Preface,  and 
I  would  that  it  might  be  laid  to  heart  by  the  teachers 
of  all  English  youth. 

"  But  they  will  say,"  he  continues,  "  St.  Chrysostom 
contracted  a  fondness  for  the  comick  poet  for  the  sake 
of  his  Greek,  To  this  indeed  I  have  nothing  to  reply. 
Far  be  it  from  me  to  insinuate  so  unscholarlike  a  thing 
as  if  we  had  the  same  use  for  good  English,  that  a  Greek 
has  for  his  Attick  elegance." 

Warburton  was  a  friend  and  admirer  of  Pope,  and 
after  some  preliminary  misunderstandings,  they  entered 
and  maintained  a  close  alliance  in  literary  matters,  offen- 
sive more  than  defensive.  It  was  said  that  the  poet 
made  the  clergyman  a  Bishop,  and  the  Bishop  made  the 
poet  a  Christian. 

Warburton  took  up  Pope's  quarrel  with  Theobald, 
sneered  at  Rowe's  account  as  "  meagre,"  although  sub- 
sequent generations  have  added  little  to  it,  and  fell  upon 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxili 

the  amiable  and  elegant  Hanmer  with  tooth  and  claw. 
His  extravagance  in  the  use  of  words  led  him  often  into 
unfairness  and  inaccuracy.  He  amused  while  he  repelled. 
He  carried  the  personalities  of  criticism  to  the  extreme. 
For  example,  when  in  speaking  of  Theobald  he  said, 
"  What  he  read  he  could  transcribe,  but,  as  what  he 
thought,  if  ever  he  did  think,  he  could  but  ill  express, 
so  he  read  on."  Posterity  judging  between  the  two 
forgot  Warburton  and  Pope  as  critics  and  bought 
several  editions  of  Theobald.  It  is  amusing  to  find  such 
a  writer  saying  that  an  "  odd  humour  of  finding  fault 
hath  long  prevailed  among  critics,  as  if  nothing  were 
worth  remarking  that  did  not  at  the  same  time  deserve 
to  be  reproved." 

The  chief  value  of  Warburton's  Preface  is  his  state- 
ment of  the  principles  upon  which  textual  criticism 
should  proceed,  which  we  may  endorse  to  the  student  as 
sound  and  wholesome,  although  their  author  did  not 
always  act  upon  them  with  consistency. 

Dr.  Samuel  Johnson's  Introduction  to  his  edition  of 
the  plays  in  1765,  while  ponderous  in  style,  and  occa- 
sionally whimsical  in  sentiment,  is,  in  my  judgment,  the 
most  valuable  critical  estimate  of  Shakespeare's  genius 
which  the  eighteenth  century  produced.  From  some 
of  his  literary  judgments  we  are  bound  to  dissent.  His 
assertion,  for  instance,  that  Shakespeare's  natural  bent 
was  in  the  line  of  comedy,  so  that  "  In  tragedy  he  often 
writes  with  great  appearance  of  toil  and  study  what  is 
written  at  last  with  little  felicity." 

Shakespeare's  genius  illuminated  human  life.  In  the 
broadest  sense  he  wrote  neither  comedy  nor  tragedy,  but 
interpreted  men  and  women  whose  dealings  with  earth 
and  time  resulted  in  one  or  other  or  both.    But  the  poet 


yadv  INTRODUCTORY   ESSAY 

seems  to  me  to  be  equally  at  home  in  both  phases  of  life. 
Desdemona  does  not  seem  to  be  less  naturally  studied 
than  Rosalind,  "  King  Lear  "  and  "  Macbeth  "  are  as 
spontaneous  as  "  Twelfth  Night,"  and  far  more  so  than 
the  "  Midsummer  Night's  Dream."  But  Johnson  de- 
clares that  "  His  tragedy  seems  to  be  skill,  his  comedy 
to  be  instinct."  It  is  true  that  tragedy  involves  a  more 
arduous  toil,  as  it  is  a  superior  form  of  composition, 
but  Shakespeare  is  surely  as  spontaneous  in  one  as  the 
other,  and  I  do  not  think  that  the  judgment  of  the  ages 
acquiesces  in  the  dictum  that  "  In  his  tragic  scenes  there 
is  always  something  wanting,  his  comedy  often  surpasses 
expectation  or  desire." 

The  most  whimsical  of  Dr.  Johnson's  utterances  con- 
cerns the  part  played  by  love  in  Shakespearean  drama. 
"  Love,"  he  says,  "  is  only  one  of  many  passions,  and  as 
it  has  no  great  influence  upon  the  sum  of  life  it  has  little 
operation  in  the  dramas  of  a  poet  who  caught  his  ideas 
from  the  living  world,  and  exhibited  only  what  he  saw 
before  him."  The  italics  are  mine.  The  widow  Porter 
was  twenty  years  older  than  himself  when  Johnson  took 
her  to  wife,  but  he  is  reported  to  have  lived  very  happily 
with  her,  so  this  remarkable  sentence  must  be  taken  as 
the  result  of  general  observation  rather  than  a  personal 
experience.  I  confess  it  is  to  me  the  most  astounding 
adjudication  in  English  letters.  Love  with  one  or  more 
of  its  "  spontaneous  variations  "  is  the  theme  of  almost 
every  comedy,  of  one  third  of  the  tragedies,  and  even 
plays  no  small  part  in  many  of  the  historical  plays.  As 
to  the  passion  of  love  having  no  great  influence  upon 
the  sum  of  life,  if  it  were  possible  to  withdraw  that  influ- 
ence, there  would  be  little  but  rags  and  tatters  left. 

Another  judgment   in   which   we    cannot    concur     is 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxv 

that  Shakespeare's  "  declamation  or  set  speeches  are 
commonly  cold  and  weak  ...  in  which  he  seldom 
escapes  without  the  pity  or  resentment  of  the  reader." 
We  at  once  recall  the  grandeur  of  monologue  which 
chai^acterises  "  Richard  II." ;  the  whirling  passion  of 
"  Julius  Caesar  "  and  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra  " ;  the 
biting  cynicism  of  "  Richard  III.,"  and  wonder  if  Dr. 
Johnson  did  more  than  glance  through  the  plays  in  order 
to  see  how  the  plot  came  to  its  denouement. 

In  his  other  unfavourable  comments  upon,  for  in- 
stance, the  quibbles  with  words,  grossness  of  the  comic 
parts,  and  lack  of  delicacy  in  his  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
the  critic  half  admitted  that  he  was  really  criticising 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  Elizabethan  age  from 
which  Shakespeare  drew  his  working  models. 

Every  critic,  however,  feels  bound  to  censure  here  and 
there  in  order  to  justify  his  existence,  and  Dr.  Johnson 
redeems  the  most  extraordinary  and  whimsical  of  his 
utterances  by  certain  excellencies  of  interpretation  and 
shrewd  common  sense  judgments. 

His  defence  of  Shakespearean  violation  of  the  unities 
of  the  classic  drama  is  not  an  apology  in  the  vein  of 
Pope,  but  a  reconstruction  of  the  theory  of  the  drama. 
He  strikes  at  the  root  of  the  claim  that  an  observance 
of  the  unities  is  necessary  to  make  the  drama  credible, 
in  the  sentence :  "  Delusion,  if  delusion  be  admitted,  has 
no  certain  limitation ;  if  the  spectator  can  be  once  per- 
suaded that  his  old  acquaintance  are  Alexander  and 
Caesar,  or  that  a  room  illuminated  with  candles,  is  the 
plain  of  Pharsalia,  or  the  bank  of  the  Granicus,  he  is  in 
a  state  of  elevation  above  the  reach  of  reason,  or  of 
truth,  and  from  the  heights  of  empyrean  poetry,  may 
despise  the  circumscriptions  of  terrestrial  nature.  There 


xxvi  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

is  no  reason  why  a  mind  thus  wandering  in  ecstacy 
should  count  the  clock,  or  why  an  hour  should  not  be  a 
century  in  that  calenture  of  the  brain's  that  can  make 
the  stage  a  field." 

Shakespearean  dramas  offer  a  proof  in  themselves, 
and  the  developments  of  the  later  drama  buttress  this 
proof,  "  that  the  unities  of  time  and  place  are  not  neces- 
sary to  a  great  drama,"  and  Dr.  Johnson  led  the  way  to 
a  juster  estimate  of  the  works  of  the  great  poet,  by 
relieving  them  on  sound,  critical  grounds  from  the  incu- 
bus of  irregularity  which  seventeenth  and  eighteenth 
century  critics  insisted  upon  saddling  upon  them. 

The  shrewd  mind  of  the  great  man  perceived  a  truth 
to  which  so  many  before  and  after  him  seemed  curiously 
blind,  that  the  learning  and  knowledge  of  Shakespeare, 
as  already  noted,  were  to  be  attributed  to  the  sources  of 
his  plays ;  "  I  am  inclined  to  believe,"  he  says,  "  that  he 
read  little  more  than  English,  and  chose  for  his  fables 
only  such  tales  as  he  found  translated." 

Modern  research  has  caused  no  material  alteration  of 
this  judgment.  We  have  access  to  Shakespeare's  library 
in  more  than  one  exhaustive  collection,  and  the  student 
of  these  sources  has  no  difficulty  in  accounting  for  the 
knowledge  and  learning  displayed  throughout  the  plays. 
This  is  not  to  say  that  the  poet  was  unlearned,  but  that 
he  need  not  have  been  learned  in  either  the  languages 
or  sciences  to  have  written  the  works  attributed  to 
him. 

Dr.  Johnson  added  to  his  own  comments  a  brief  but 
judicious  review  of  the  editorial  work  which  preceded 
his  own,  bestowing  praise  and  blame  with  impartial  pen, 
save  as  it  seems  to  me  in  his  criticism  of  Theobald.  The 
literary  atmosphere  which  he  breathed  was  charged  with 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxvii 

a  malignant  spirit  towards  that  unfortunate  editor.  It 
will  be  noticed,  however,  that  those  who  criticised  Theo- 
bald's vanity,  his  petulance  and  his  learning,  availed 
themselves  of  the  results  of  his  labour  with  no  niggardly 
hand,  and  Johnson  proved  no  exception. 

Dr.  Johnson's  observations  form,  on  the  whole,  the  best 
and  finest  critical  estimate  of  Shakespeare's  works  which 
the  eighteenth  century  produced,  and  whether  we  agree 
with  him  or  not  in  every  judgment,  we  cannot  fail  to 
be  enlightened  by  his  many-syllabled  sentences. 

His  advice  to  the  average  reader  is  sound  and  helpful. 
It  is  summed  up  in  a  conclusion  which  I  am  proud  to 
remember  was  the  result  of  my  own  judgment  long  be- 
fore I  saw  it  so  happily  expressed  by  so  great  an 
authority :  "  Let  him  that  is  yet  unacquainted  with  the 
powers  of  Shakespeare,  and  who  desires  to  feel  the 
highest  pleasure  that  the  drama  can  give,  read  every  play 
from  the  first  scene  to  the  last  with  utter  neghgence  of 
all  his  commentators." 

It  was  thus  that  the  audience  who  first  saw  these  plays 
presented  received  their  impressions.  It  is  only  so  that 
modem  readers  can  have  original  opinions.  The 
herd-mind  is  not  desirable.  Every  reader  should  be  his 
own  commentator,  which  is  merely  another  way  for  say- 
ing that  everyone  should  be  able  to  form  an  independent 
judgment  as  to  characters  and  events.  Great  names 
should  not  stand  In  the  way.  A  very  average-minded 
man  has  made  within  a  few  years  one  of  the  most  lumi- 
nous comments  on  a  line  in  Shakespeare  which  has  been 
uttered  in  a  generation: 

"  Parts  are  not  to  be  examined  till  the  whole  has  been 
surveyed."  Get  the  story  in  hand.  Have  a  grasp  of 
the  plot.     Then  pay  a  closer  attention  to  details,  and 


xxviii  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

then  having  his  own  opinion,  let  the  student  graft  upon 
this  original  stock  such  shoots  as  shall  seem  worth  while. 

George  Steevens  followed  Dr.  Johnson,  in  a  new  depar- 
ture, deserting  the  Folios  and  paying  attention  to  the 
Quartos.  His  Advertisement  to  the  Reader  prefixed  to 
the  edition  of  twenty  of  the  old  Quarto  copies  (1766) 
is  given  in  the  following  collection  rather  than  the  later 
Advertisement  to  the  Steevens  and  Johnson  edition,  be- 
cause it  calls  attention  to  these  earlier  and  rarer  imprints 
of  Shakespeare's  plays. 

These  Quartos  were  nearly  all  published  during 
Shakespeare's  life-time,  and  while  some  of  them  are 
doubtless  the  "  stolen  and  surreptitious  copies  "  referred 
to  by  Heminge  and  Condell  in  their  "  Address  to  the 
Great  Variety  of  Readers,"  some  of  them  bear  evidence 
of  enlargement  and  redaction,  perhaps  by  Shakespeare 
himself.  They  offered  the  only  standard  of  comparison 
for  collation  with  the  Folios,  however,  and  Steevens's 
work  in  gathering  and  reprinting  them  in  four  volumes 
was  of  the  greatest  value  to  all  succeeding  students. 

Steevens  opened  another  new  avenue  in  the  enlarging 
field  of  criticism  by  his  suggestion,  trite  enough  in  these 
days,  but  new  in  the  eighteenth  century,  that  the  mean- 
ing of  many  blind  expressions  in  the  plays  might  be 
retrieved  by  comparison  with  the  works  of  contemporary 
authors. 

In  treating  of  the  publication  of  scraps  and  bits  of 
composition,  "  detached  and  broken  sentences "  of 
authors  who  never  intended  them  for  publication, 
Steevens  rebukes  that  spirit  which  is  much  more  preva- 
lent in  the  twentieth  than  in  the  eighteenth  century,  as 
is  evidenced  in  shoals  of  volumes  of  posthumously  ^inted 
letters  and  diaries. 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxlx 

"  A  man  conscious  of  literary  reputation  will  grow  in 
time  afraid  to  write  with  tenderness  to  his  sister,  or  with 
fondness  to  his  child.  .  .  .  That  esteem  which  pre- 
serves his  letters  will  at  last  produce  his  disgrace;  when 
that  which  he  wrote  to  his  friend  or  his  daughter  shall 
be  laid  open  to  the  public." 

We  recall  a  comparatively  recent  instance  in  which  the 
most  beautiful  and  tender  love  story  of  modern  times 
was  laid  open  to  profane  eyes  by  the  son  of  two  great 
poets. 

Edward  Capell's  Introduction  confines  itself  mainly  to 
the  Quartos,  and  defends  the  purity  of  their  text  from 
the  slur  of  the  players'  Preface.  His  arguments  are 
ingenious  and  may  be  said  to  be  convincing,  although 
like  every  man  with  a  brief,  he  exaggerates  facts  which 
of  themselves  are  sufficient  if  barely  stated. 

He  reviews  briefly  the  editions  preceding  his  own,  dis- 
covering their  errors  and  mistakes  and  failing  to  note 
their  excellencies.  His  own  work,  he  states,  is  based  not 
upon  the  text  of  preceding  editions  (which  is  the  cry- 
ing sin  he  declares  of  his  predecessors  from  Rowe  down), 
but  upon  the  oldest  editions,  the  Quartos  when  they  are 
available,  and  the  First  Folio  rather  than  later  reprints. 
In  this  course  he  is  entirely  justified,  but  he  was  not  the 
first  or  only  commentator  who  did  so.  Mr.  Capell  was, 
until  Malone,  the  most  patient,  conscientious  and  praise- 
worthy of  annotators,  although  Dr.  Johnson  said  of 
him,  "  he  doth  quibble  monstrously."  His  learning  was 
considerable  and  his  genius  for  plodding  beyond  words. 
His  chief  contribution  to  Shakespeare  lore,  in  this  In- 
troduction, is  in  a  few  lines  of  explanation  why  the  great 
poet  seemed  to  lie  'perdu  for  two  generations ;  the 
change  of  the  Court  taste  which  ran  to  the  Masques,  in 


zxx 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 


the  construction  of  which  Ben  Johnson  was  past  master, 
the  civil  war,  the  lascivious  taste  of  the  Restoration,  and 
the  alterations  of  Shakespeare's  own  text  to  please  a 
debased  public  taste.  He  notes  in  this  connection,  how- 
ever, that  the  current  of  tendency  towards  Shakespeare 
never  dried  up  even  while  "  the  stream  of  the  public 
favour  ran  the  other  way."  Capell  also  makes  a  very 
ingenious  and  I  think  judicious  examination  of  the 
earlier  plays  of  Shakespeare,  upon  which  doubts  of  his 
authorship  had  been  cast,  because  of  their  blunders  and 
extravagance  of  language.  His  searching  comments  on 
"  Love's  Labour's  Lost,"  and  "  Titus  Andronicus,"  are 
fine  pieces  of  critical  acumen. 

When  Rowe  revived  the  poet  in  a  convenient  and  handy 
form  in  1709,  and  enlivened  public  interest  in  his  works 
by  the  first  account  of  his  life  that  had  been  published, 
there  was  no  small  circle  of  his  admirers  remaining  as  a 
nucleus,  and  from  that  day  there  has  never  been  a  ques- 
tion as  to  William  Shakespeare's  right  of  eminent  domain 
in  English  letters. 

Capell's  Introduction  acquired  substantial  value  for 
his  day  in  the  appendix  entitled  "  Origin  of  Shake- 
speare's Fables,"  being  a  brief  description  of  the  known 
works  upon  which  nearly  all  the  plays  were  founded. 
(This  is  omitted  from  the  reprint  in  this  volume,  as  cum- 
bersome, and  it  was  by  no  means  complete.)  But  it  was 
a  long  step  forward  and  collected  material  out  of  which 
scholars  were  thereafter  to  construct  the  true  and  com- 
plete fabric.^ 

Mr.  Isaac  Reed  in  1*785  re-edited  the  Steevens  text 

'The  student  is  here  referred  to  the  six  volumes  called 
"Shakespeare's  Library,"  edited  first  by  Payne  Collier  (1843), 
revised  and  enlarged  by  W.  Carew  Hazlett   (1875). 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxxi 

and  is  the  only  known  instance  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury of  a  modest  editor,  as  will  appear  from  the 
following  paragraph  of  his  Advertisement: 

"  The  present  editor  thinks  it  unnecessary  to  say  any- 
thing of  his  own  share  in  the  work  except  that  he 
undertook  it  in  consequence  of  an  application  which 
was  too  flattering  and  honourable  to  him  to  decline.  He 
mentions  this  only  to  have  it  known  that  he  did  not 
intrude  himself  into  the  situation." 

Mr.  Reed's  Advertisement  is  here  printed  and  his 
revision  noted  because  the  Steevens  text  to  which  he 
gave  his  labours  was  for  a  long  period  the  standard,  and 
until  the  beginning  of  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth 
century  most  Shakespearean  readers  used  it. 

Mr.  Reed  deserves  to  be  remembered  also  as  the  editor 
of  the  first  variorum  edition  of  Shakespeare,  based  on 
Steevens's  text  in  twenty-one  volumes,  published  in 
1803,  and  practically  reprinted  in  1813.  The  next 
variorum  was  the  work  of  James  Boswell,  son  of  John- 
son's "  Bozzy,"  in  1821.  The  next  and  most  stupendous, 
by  our  fellow  countryman,  Horace  Howard  Furness, 
was  begun  in  1871  and  is  now  undergoing  revision  by 
his  son. 

With  Edmond  Malone  we  reach  the  last  of  the  great 
editors  of  the  eighteenth  century.  His  patience 
equalled  and  his  special  learning  exceeded  that  of 
Capell,  while  his  contribution  to  Elizabethan  dramatic 
history  and  literature  out-ranked  all  who  preceded  him, 
and  serves  as  a  mine  for  all  who  follow  him.  He  quoted 
more  generally  than  is  customary  from  Dr.  Johnson's 
Introduction,  and  took  exception  to  some  of  his 
conclusions. 

We  must  admit  that  Malone  spoke  with  an  authority 


xxxii  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

no  preceding  editor  could  assume,  (with  the  possible 
exception  of  Capell)  in  matters  pertaining  to  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  English  stage,  and  the  customs  of  the 
Elizabethan  players  in  handling  their  parts.  He  had  an 
extensive  first-hand  knowledge  of  the  earliest  printed 
copies  both  of  Shakespeare's  plays  and  those  of  his 
contemporaries.  He  displays  this  knowledge  in  tracing 
the  gradual  process  of  corruption  in  a  text  as  it  passes 
through  the  hands  of  editors  and  printers,  in  several 
pages  of  examples  (which  are  omitted  from  the  follow- 
ing reprint  of  his  introduction  as  concerned  only  with 
matters  of  textual  criticism) . 

Malone's  contention  that  the  First  Folio  has  a  value 
which  is  lacking  in  the  three  succeeding  ones  Is  based 
upon  the  "  numerous  misrepresentations  and  interpola- 
tions "  with  which  he  was  familiar  from  close  personal 
examination.  I  have  long  been  of  his  opinion  that  the 
first  edition  of  each  play  is  alone  of  any  authority,  and 
that  they  are  properly  the  basis  of  annotation  and 
emendation. 

He  proves  by  comparison  of  the  First  and  Second 
Folios  that  the  editor  of  the  latter  was  "  entirely 
ignorant  of  our  poet's  phraseology  " ;  supporting  his 
argument  by  quotations  to  a  wearisome  extent. 

The  Introduction  is  enriched  by  the  wide  reading  of  its 
author  in  Elizabethan  literature  and  he  makes  a  stout 
defence  of  the  editor's  work  against  the  complaints,  of 
which  we  still  have  echoes,  that  the  plays  themselves  are 
buried  under  the  notes  of  the  commentators.  Malone 
believed  the  works  of  Shakespeare  to  be  such  a  treasure 
house  for  the  reader  and  student  that  he  was  bold 
enough  to  say  "  When  our  poet's  entire  library  shall 
have  been  discovered,  and  the  fables  of  all  his  plays 


INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY  xxxiil 

traced  to  their  original  source,  when  every  contemporary 
allusion  shall  have  been  pointed  out,  and  every  obscurity 
elucidated,  then,  and  not  till  then,  let  the  accumulation 
of  notes  be  complained  of." 

I  consider  that  Malone's  chief  contribution  to 
Shakespearean  literature  in  this  introduction  is  his 
estimate  of  the  value  of  first  editions. 

As  one  reads  these  famous  introductions,  covering  a 
century  of  time,  and  reflects  upon  the  immense  industry 
and  arduous  toil  which  the  editions  and  prefaces  repre- 
sent, one  is  inclined  to  smile  again  at  the  naive  remark 
of  Rowe,  "  the  works  of  Mr.  Shakespeare  may  seem  to 
many  not  to  want  a  commentary." 

The  smile  broadens  as  we  read  Dr.  Johnson's  an- 
nouncement that  he  would  deal  with  the  faults  and 
excellencies  of  the  poet  "  without  envious  malignity  or 
superstitious  veneration.  Since  no  question  can  be  more 
innocently  discussed  than  a  dead  poet's  pretensions  to 
renown." 

The  reader  has  but  to  follow  the  raging  clamour  of  the 
famous  editors  of  the  eighteenth  century  as  set  forth  in 
these  pages,  the  scorns  and  sarcasms,  the  accusations  of 
ignorance  and  malevolence,  to  realise  how  little  the  great 
"  Cham  "  of  literature  could  prophesy  what  was  to  be, 
or  judiciously  reflect  upon  what  was  going  on  within 
sound  of  his  ears.  For  the  echoes  of  Pope,  Theobald, 
and  Warburton's  "  innocent  discussions  "  still  fill  the 
air. 

It  is  because  of  my  belief  in  the  value  of  these  dis- 
cussions that  I  off^er  the  contribution  of  this  volume  to 
the  student  of  Shakespeare.  Every  critic  or  editor 
whose  preface,  advertisement,  or  introduction  is  in- 
cluded in  these  pages  improves  our  knowledge  both  of 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTORY    ESSAY 

the  text  and  the  spirit  of  Shakespeare.  To  each  one 
the  empire  of  letters  owes  a  distinct  debt. 

Modern  research  has  added  many  minor  details  to  our 
knowledge  of  the  poet  and  his  works;  modern  editions 
have  placed  the  results  of  the  ripest  scholarship  within 
reach  of  the  poorest  student;  modem  machinery  has 
produced  in  the  perfection  of  form,  fitting  and  graceful 
caskets  for  these  jewels  of  English  letters.  But  all — 
without  exception — are  and  must  remain  debtors  to  the 
pioneer  players  who  saved  the  bulk  of  the  poet's  work 
from  the  slag  heap  of  annihilation;  to  the  pioneer 
biographer  who  gleaned  those  otherwise  neglected  facts, 
which,  meagre  as  they  are,  are  still  almost  all  we  know 
of  the  poet's  life;  to  Pope  with  his  bitter  tongue, 
Theobald  with  his  petulant  genius,  Warburton  with  his 
sarcastic  raillery,  Steevens  with  his  saturnine  pugnacity, 
as  well  as  Johnson  with  his  far-reaching  powers  of 
analysis,  Capell  with  his  patient  plodding,  and  Malone 
with  his  well-digested  learning  in  things  pertaining  to 
the  Elizabethan  stage. 

The  study  of  Shakespeare  will  continue  to  be  the  most 
noble  pursuit  in  the  large  realm  of  English  letters  as 
long  as  the  language  lasts  to  which  he  gave  both  form 
and  stability. 

And  the  student  of  Shakespeare  cannot  fail  to  be  aided 
in  his  quest  of  the  fascinating  spirit  of  the  plays,  under 
the  illumination  cast  upon  their  pages  by  the  famous 
Introductions  of  the  eighteenth  century. 


OF   THE 

UNIVERSITY 


JOHN    HEMINGE 
HENRIE     CONDELL 

JOHN  HEMINGE,  as  he  signs  his  name  in  the 
First  Folio,  or  Hemmings  as  it  appears  in 
other  places,  was  an  actor,  manager,  and 
shareholder  in  both  the  Globe  and  Blackfriars 
theatres.  There  is  no  record  extant  of  the  time  of  his 
birth,  but  perhaps  he  was  a  native  of  Shottery,  the 
home  of  Anne  Hathaway,  as  a  man  of  his  name  had  a 
child  baptised  in  Stratford  Parish  Church  in  1567. 

His  original  trade  was  that  of  a  grocer,  as  we  learn 
from  his  will,  where  he  describes  himself  as  a  "citizen 
and  grocer  "  of  London. 

His  name  is  traced  through  various  documents  as  actor 
in  a  number  of  plays,  and  Malone  hands  down  a  tradi- 
tion which  he  found  in  a  forgotten  pamphlet  that 
Heminge  was  the  creator  of  the  character  of  FalstafF. 

He  increased  in  wealth  and  importance,  as  is  noted 
from  two  lists  of  players  in  the  King's  Company  (the 
players  were  usually  sharers  in  the  profits),  when  in 
1603  his  name  stands  sixth,  and  in  1619,  it  is  at  the 
head  of  the  list.  He  was  a  warm  personal  friend  of 
Shakespeare,  who  left  him  by  will  the  sum  of  twenty-six 
shillings  and  sixpence  wherewith  to  purchase  a  ring. 

His  literary  work  was  confined,  so  far  as  we  know,  to 
the  publication  (and  editing  after  a  fashion)  of 
the  celebrated  First  Folio  edition  of  the  plays  of 
Shakespeare,  in  association  with  Henrie  Condell.  This 
was  in  1623,  seven  years  after  the  poet's  death. 


2  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

In  a  "  Sonnet  upon  the  pitiful  burning  of  the  Globe 

Playhouse    in    London "  (1613)    occur    the    following 

lines : 

"There  with  swol'ii  eyes  like  druncken  Flemminges 
Distressed  stood  old  stuttering  Hemminges."  * 

He  died  in  October,  1630,  at  Aldermanbury. 

HENRIE    CONDELL 

Heneie  Condeli.,  or  Cundell  as  it  was  sometimes 
spelled  (Elizabethan  spelling  was  a  matter  of  individual 
taste  and  preference)  was  the  associate  of  John  Heminge 
in  the  production  of  the  First  Folio.  He  was  an  actor 
of  moderate  reputation  and  a  fellow  manager  in  theat- 
rical ventures  with  Heminge.  From  actors'  lists  we 
learn  that  he  played  in  the  productions  of  Shakespeare, 
Ben  Jonson,  and  Beaumont  and  Fletcher.  His  relations 
with  the  former  were  confidential  and  friendly,  and  in 
the  great  poet's  will  he  was  also  remembered  by  a  bequest 
of  money  to  buy  a  ring. 

He  is  mentioned  in  the  "  Sonnet "  quoted  above  as 
follows : 

"Out  runne     the  knightes,  out  runne  the  lordes,  and  there  was 
great  adoe, 
Some  lost  their  hattes  and  some  their  swords,  then     out  run 

Burbidge  too. 
The  reprobates  thoughe  drunck  on  Munday 
Pray'd  for  the  Foole  and  Henry  Condye." 

There  is  no  record  of  his  birth,  but  he  died  in 
December,  1627. 

No  portraits  are  extant  of  either  of  the  first  two 
editors  of  Shakespeare's  plays. 

*"OutUnes,"  by  HalliweU  Phillips.     Vol.  I,  p.  310.     Ed.  1887. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  8 

HEMINGE  AND  CONDELL'S  INTRODUCTION 

[First  Folio  Edition,  1623.] 

To  the  Great  Variety  of  Readers: 

From  the  most  able,  to  him  that  can  but  spell:  There 
you  are  number'd.  We  had  rather  you  were  weigh'd. 
Especially,  when  the  fate  of  all  Bookes  depends  upon 
your  capacities:  and  not  of  your  heads  alone,  but  of 
your  purses.  Well !  It  is  now  publique,  &  you  wil  stand 
for  your  priviledges  wee  know:  to  read,  and  censure. 
Doe  so,  but  buy  it  first.  That  doth  best  commend  a 
Booke,  the  Stationer  saies.  Then,  how  odde  soever  your 
braines  be,  or  your  wisedomes,  make  your  licence  the 
same,  and  spare  not.  Judge  your  sixe-pen'orth,  your 
shillings  worth,  your  five  shillings  worth  at  a  time,  or 
higher,  so  you  rise  to  the  just  rates,  and  welcome.  But, 
what  ever  you  do.  Buy.  Censure  will  not  drive  a  Trade, 
or  make  the  Jacke  go.  And  though  you  be  a  Magistrate 
of  wit,  and  sit  on  the  Stage  at  Black-Friers,  or  the 
Cock-pit,  to  arraigne  Playes  dailie,  know,  these  Playes 
have  had  their  triall  alreadie,  and  stood  out  all  Appeales ; 
and  do  now  come  forth  quitted  rather  by  a  Decree  of 
Court,  then  any  purchas'd  Letters  of  commendation. 

It  had  been  a  thing,  we  confesse,  worthie  to  have  bene 
wished,  that  the  Author  himselfe  had  liv'd  to  have  set 
forth,  and  overseen  his  owne  writings ;  But  since  it  hath 
bin  ordain'd  otherwise,  and  he  by  death  departed  from 
that  right,  we  pray  you  do  not  envie  his  Friends,  the 
office  of  their  care,  and  paine,  to  have  collected  &  pub- 
lished them;  and  so  to  have  publish'd  them,  as  where 
(before)  you  were  abus'd  with  diverse  stolne,  and  sur- 
reptitious copies,  maimed  and  deformed  by  the  frauds 


4  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

and  stealths  of  injurious  imposters,  that  expos'd  them: 
even  those,  are  now  offer'd  to  your  view  cur'd,  and  per- 
fect of  their  limbes;  and  all  the  rest,  absolute  in  their 
numbers,  as  he  conceived  them.  Who,  as  he  was  a  happie 
imitator  of  Nature,  was  a  most  gentle  expresser  of  it. 
His  mind  and  hand  went  together :  and  what  he  thought, 
he  uttered  with  that  easinesse,  that  wee  have  scarce 
received  from  him  a  blot  in  his  papers.  But  it  is  not 
our  province,  who  only  gather  his  works,  and  give  them 
you,  to  praise  him.  It  is  yours  that  reade  him.  And 
there  we  hope,  to  your  divers  capacities,  you  will  find 
enough,  both  to  draw,  and  hold  you :  for  his  wit  can  no 
more  lie  hid,  than  it  could  be  lost.  Reade  him,  there- 
fore; and  againe,  and  againe:  And  then  if  you  do  not 
like  him,  surely  you  are  in  some  manifest  danger,  not 
to  understand  him.  And  so  we  leave  you  to  other  of  his 
Friends,  who  if  you  need,  can  bee  your  guides:  if  you 
neede  them  not,  you  can  leade  your  selves,  and  others 
and  such  Readers  we  wish  him. 

John  Heminge. 

Heneie  Condell. 


TO    SHAKESPr;j:L*d   PLAYS 


NICHOLAS    ROWE 

1677-1718 

THE  high  honour  of  being  the  first  biographer 
of  William  Shakespeare  belongs  to  Nicholas 
Rowe,  bom  in  Bedfordshire  in  1677,  died 
in  London  December  6,  1718.  He  was  a 
pupil  at  Westminster  School  under  the  famous  Dr. 
Busby,  became  a  student  of  the  Inner  Temple,  was 
called  to  the  bar,  but  forsook  the  law  for  politics  and 
finally  for  literature.  He  was  an  under-Secretary  of 
State,  and  Secretary  of  State  for  Scotland,  but  in  the 
reign  of  George  I.  reached  the  object  of  his  ambition 
and  became  poet  laureate. 

He  became  a  dramatic  writer  of  repute.  His  chief 
works  were,  "  The  Ambitious  Stepmother,"  "  Tamer- 
lane," "  The  Famous  Penitent "  (famous  as  having 
among  its  dramatis  personce  the  original  "  gallant  gay 
Lothario  "),  "  Ulysses,"  "  The  Royal  Convert,"  "  Jane 
Shore,"  and  "  Lady  Jane  Grey."  Of  these  I  believe  only 
"  Jane  Shore "  has  been  acted  on  the  modern  stage. 
Two  volumes  of  miscellaneous  poetry  were  also  accred- 
ited to  him.  Rowe  was  a  popular  member  of  that  literary 
coterie  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  which 
included  Pope  and  Addison,  whom  he  counted  among 
his  friends. 

His  Shakespeare  work  was  his  most  notable 
achievement.  In  1709  he  published  an  edition  of  the 
plays  "  with  an  account  of  his  life  and  writings  "  in 
seven  volumes  octavo.    This  was  followed  in  1714  by  a 


6  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

second  edition  in  nine  volumes.  It  was  the  first  attempt 
to  give  any  details  of  the  great  poet's  life ;  and  Rowe's 
experience  as  a  playwright  led  him  to  prefix  to  each 
play  its  list  of  dramatis  personce,  to  divide  the  plays 
into  numbered  acts  and  scenes,  and  to  mark  exits  and 
entrances. 

Rowe  was  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey  and  Pope  wrote 
the  following  epitaph  for  his  tomb : 

"  Thy  relics,  Rowe,  to  this  sad  shrine  we  trust. 
And  near  thy  Shakespeare  place  thy  honoured  bust. 
Oh,  next  him,  skilled  to  draw  the  tender  tear. 
For  never  heartfelt  passion  more  sincere; 
To  nobler  sentiment  to  fire  the  brave. 
For  never  Briton  more  disdained  a  slave; 
Peace  to  thy  gentle  shade  and  endless  rest! 
Blest  in  thy  genius,  in  thy  love,  too,  blest! 
And  blest,  that  timely  from  our  scene  removed, 
Thy  soul  enjoy    the  liberty  it  loved." 

SOME    ACCOUNT    OF   THE    LIFE   OF 
WILLIAM    SHAKESPEARE 

WEITTEN    BY    NICHOLAS    ROWE 

This  account  is  taken  from  the  second  edition   (1714),  slightly 
altered  by  the  author  from  the  first  edition  of  1709. 

It  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  respect  due  to  the  memory  of 
excellent  men,  especially  of  those  whom  their  wit  and 
learning  have  made  famous,  to  deliver  some  account  of 
themselves,  as  well  as  their  works,  to  posterity.  For 
this  reason,  how  fond  do  we  see  some  people  of  discov- 
ering any  little  personal  story  of  the  great  men  of 
antiquity :  their  families,  the  common  accidents  of  their 
lives,  and  even  their  shape,  make,  and  features,  have 
been   the   subject   of   critical   inquiries.     How   trifling 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  7 

soever  this  curiosity  may  seem  to  be,  it  is  certainly  very 
natural;  and  we  are  hardly  satisfied  with  an  account  of 
any  remarkable  person,  till  we  have  heard  him  described 
even  to  the  very  clothes  he  wears.  As  for  what  relates 
to  men  of  letters,  the  knowledge  of  an  author  may  some- 
times conduce  to  the  better  understanding  his  book ;  and 
though  the  works  of  Mr.  Shakespeare  may  seem  to  many 
not  to  want  a  comment,  yet  I  fancy  some  little  account 
of  the  man  himself  may  not  be  thought  improper  to  go 
along  with  them. 

He  was  the  son  of  Mr.  John  Shakespeare,  and  was  bom 
at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  in  Warwickshire,  in  April, 
1564.  His  family,  as  appears  by  the  register  and  pub- 
lick  writings  relating  to  that  town,  were  of  good  figure 
and  fashion  there,  and  are  mentioned  as  gentlemen. 
His  father,  who  was  a  considerable  dealer  in  wool,  had  so 
large  a  family,  ten  children  in  all,  that  though  he  was 
his  eldest  son,  he  could  give  him  no  better  education 
than  his  own  employment.  He  had  bred  him,  it  is  true, 
for  some  time  at  a  free  school,*  where,  it  is  probable,  he 
acquired  what  Latin  he  was  master  of :  but  the  narrow- 
ness of  his  circumstances,  and  the  want  of  his  assistance 
at  home,  forced  his  father  to  withdraw  him  from  thence, 
and  unhappily  prevented  his  further  proficiency  in  that 
language.  It  is  without  controversy,  that  in  his  works 
we  scarce  find  any  traces  of  any  thing  that  looks  like  an 
imitation  of  the  ancients.  The  delicacy  of  his  taste,  and 
the  natural  bent  of  his  own  great  genius  (equal,  if  not 
superior,  to  some  of  the  best  of  theirs),  would  certainly 
have  led  him  to  read  and  study  them  with  so  much 
pleasure,  that  some  of  their  fine  images  would  naturally 

^  One  of  the  grammar  schools  founded  or  reconstructed  on  older 
foundations  by  Edward  VI.  in  1547. 


8  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

have  Insinuated  themselves  into,  and  been  mixed  with  his 
own  writings ;  so  that  his  not  copying  at  least  something 
from  them,  may  be  an  argument  of  his  never  having 
read  them.  Whether  his  ignorance  of  the  ancients  were 
a  disadvantage  to  him  or  no,  may  admit  of  a  dispute: 
for  though  the  knowledge  of  them  might  have  made  him 
more  correct,  yet  it  is  not  improbable  but  that  the  reg- 
ularity and  deference  for  them,  which  would  have 
attended  that  correctness,  might  have  restrained  some  of 
that  fire,  impetuosity,  and  even  beautiful  extravagance, 
which  we  admire  in  Shakespeare:  and  I  believe  we  are 
better  pleased  with  those  thoughts,  altogether  new  and 
uncommon,  which  his  own  imagination  supplied  him  so 
abundantly  with,  than  if  he  had  given  us  the  most 
beautiful  passages  out  of  the  Greek  and  Latin  poets, 
and  that  in  the  most  agreeable  manner  that  it  was 
possible  for  a  master  of  the  English  language  to 
deliver  them. 

Upon  his  leaving  school,  he  seems  to  have  given  entirely 
into  that  way  of  living  which  his  father  proposed  to  him ; 
and  in  order  to  settle  in  the  world  after  a  family  manner, 
he  thought  fit  to  marry  while  he  was  yet  very  young.^ 
His  wife  was  the  daughter  of  one  Hathaway,  said 
to  have  been  a  substantial  yeoman  in  the  neighbour- 

2  Anne,  daughter  of  Richard  Hathaway  of  Shottery,  a  hamlet 
near  Stratford.  There  is  no  record  in  the  parish  register  or 
elsewhere  so  far  as  is  known  of  the  marriage.  The  only  light 
upon  it  is  a  record  in  the  Diocesan  Registry  (of  Worcester)  of  a 
bond  for  £40  to  free  the  Bishop  from  liability  in  the  event  of 
any  impediment  appearing  upon  the  marriage  of  William 
Shakespeare  and  Anne  Hathaway.  The  date  of  this  (Nov.  28, 
1582)  affords  reasonable  inference  that  the  marriage  took  place 
immediately  after.  As  the  oldest  child,  Susanna,  was  baptised 
May  26,  1583,  Shakespeare  must  have  been  under  nineteen  when 
he  married. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  9 

hood  of  Stratford.  In  this  kind  of  settlement  he 
continued  for  some  time,  till  an  extravagance  that  he 
was  guilty  of  forced  him  both  out  of  his  country,  and 
that  way  of  living  which  he  had  taken  up ;  and  though 
it  seemed  at  first  to  be  a  blemish  upon  his  good  manners, 
and  a  misfortune  to  him,  yet  it  afterwards  happily 
proved  the  occasion  of  exerting  one  of  the  greatest 
geniuses  that  ever  was  known  in  dramatick  poetry.  He 
had  by  a  misfortune  common  enough  to  young  fellows, 
fallen  into  ill  company,  and  amongst  them,  some  that 
made  a  frequent  practice  of  deer-stealing  engaged  him 
more  than  once  in  robbing  a  park  that  belonged  to  Sir 
Thomas  Lucy,  of  Charlecote,  near  Stratford.  For  this 
he  was  prosecuted  by  that  gentleman,  as  he  thought, 
somewhat  too  severely ;  and  in  order  to  revenge  that  ill 
usage,  he  made  a  ballad  upon  him.^  And  though  this, 
probably  the  first  essay  of  his  poetry,  be  lost,  yet  it  is 
said  to  have  been  so  very  bitter,  that  it  redoubled  the 
prosecution  against  him  to  that  degree,  that  he  was 
obliged  to  leave  his  business  and  family  in  Warwick- 
shire for  some  time,  and  shelter  himself  in  London.* 
It  is  at  this  time,  and  upon  this  accident,  that  he  is 
said  to  have  made  his  first  acquaintance  in  the  play- 
house. He  was  received  into  the  company  then  in  being, 
at  first  in  a  very  mean  rank,  but  his  admirable  wit,  and 
the  natural  turn  of  it  to  the  stage,  soon  distinguished 
him,  if  not  as  an  extraordinary  actor,  yet  as  an  excellent 
writer.  His  name  is  printed,  as  the  custom  was  in  those 
times,  amongst  those  of  the  other  players,  before  some 

"This  alleged  ballad  is  very  doubtful.  But  an  allusion  to  Sir 
Thos.  Lucy  is  evident  in  the  coat  of  arms  assigned  to  Justice 
Shallow  in  the  opening  scene  of  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor." 

*  Probably  about  1586. 


10  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

old  plays,  but  without  any  particular  account  of  what 
sort  of  parts  he  used  to  play;  and  though  I  have 
inquired,  I  could  never  meet  with  any  further  account 
of  him  this  way,  than  that  the  top  of  his  performance 
was  the  Ghost  in  his  own  "  Hamlet."  ^  I  should  have 
been  much  more  pleased,  to  have  learned  from  certain 
authority,  which  was  the  first  play  he  wrote ;  it  would  be 
without  doubt  a  pleasure  to  any  man,  curious  in  things 
of  this  kind,  to  see  and  know  what  was  the  first  essay  of 
a  fancy  like  Shakespeare's.  Perhaps  we  are  not  to  look 
for  his  beginnings,  like  those  of  other  authors,  among 
their  least  perfect  writings ;  art  had  so  little,  and  nature 
so  large  a  share  in  what  he  did,  that,  for  aught  I  know, 
the  performances  of  his  youth,  as  they  were  the  most 
vigorous,  and  had  the  most  fire  and  strength  of  imagina- 
tion in  them,  were  the  best.  I  would  not  be  thought  by 
this  to  mean,  that  his  fancy  was  so  loose  and  extrava- 
gant, as  to  be  independent  on  the  rule  and  government  of 
judgment ;  but  that  what  he  thought  was  commonly  so 
great,  so  justly  and  rightly  conceived  in  itself,  that  it 
wanted  little  or  no  correction,  and  was  immediately 
approved  by  an  impartial  judgment  at  the  first  sight. 
But  though  the  order  of  time  in  which  the  several  pieces 
were  written  be  generally  uncertain,  yet  there  are 
passages  in  some  few  of  them  which  seem  to  fix  their 
dates.  So  the  Chorus  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  act  of 
"  Henry  the  Fifth,"  by  a  compliment  very  handsomely 
turned  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  shows  the  play  to  have 
been  written  when  that  lord  was  general  for  the  Queen 
in  Ireland;  and  his  eulogy  upon  Queen  Elizabeth,  and 

•'According  to  Oldys,  Shakespeare's  younger  brother  Gilbert 
remembered  his  performance  of  the  character  of  Adam  in  "As 
You  Like  It." 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  11 

her  successor  King  James,  in  the  latter  end  of  his 
**  Henry  the  Eighth,"  is  a  proof  of  that  play's  being 
written  after  the  accession  of  the  latter  of  these  two 
princes  to  the  crown  of  England.^  Whatever  the  par- 
ticular times  of  his  writing  were,  the  people  of  his  age, 
who  began  to  grow  wonderfully  fond  of  diversions  of 
this  kind,  could  not  but  be  highly  pleased  to  see  a  genius 
arise  amongst  them  of  so  pleasurable,  so  rich  a  vein,  and 
so  plentifully  capable  of  furnishing  their  favourite 
entertainments.N  Besides  the  advantages  of  his  wit,  he 
was  in  himself  a  good-natured  man,  of  great  sweetness 
in  his  manners,  and  a  most  agreeable  companion ;  so  that 
it  is  no  wonder,  if,  with  so  many  good  qualities,  he  made 
himself  acquainted  with  the  best  conversations  of  those 
times.  Queen  Elizabeth  had  several  of  his  plays  acted 
before  her,  and  without  doubt  gave  him  many  gracious 
marks  of  her  favour :  it  is  that  maiden  princess  plainly, 
whom  he  intends  by 

"...  a  fair  vestal,  throned  by  the  west." 

— "  A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream." 

and  that  whole  passage  is  a  compliment  very  properly 
brought  in,  and  very  handsomely  applied  to  her.  She 
was  so  well  pleased  with  that  admirable  character  of 
Fals taffy  in  the  two  parts  of  "  Henry  the  Fourth,"  that 
she  commended  him  to  continue  it  for  one  play  more, 
and  to  show  him  in  love.  This  is  said  to  be  the  occasion 
of  his  writing  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor."  "^  How 
well  she  was  obeyed,  the  play  itself  is  an  admirable 
proof.     Upon  this  occasion  it  may  not  be  improper  to 

•  It  is  generally  admitted  that  Thos.  Fletcher  had  a  large  share 
in  the  authorship  of  "  Henry  VIII." 
'  Anecdote  dates  from  1702  but  is  not  considered  authentic. 


12  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

observe,  that  this  part  of  Falstaff  Is  said  to  have  been 
written  originally  under  the  name  of  Oldcastle:  some  of 
that  family  being  then  remaining,  the  Queen  was  pleased 
to  command  him  to  alter  it ;  upon  which  he  made  use  of 
Falstaff.  The  present  offence  was  indeed  avoided;  but 
I  do  not  know  whether  the  author  may  not  have  been 
somewhat  to  blame  in  his  second  choice,  since  it  is  cer- 
tain that  Sir  John  Falstaff,^  who  was  a  knight  of  the 
garter,  and  a  lieutenant-general,  was  a  name  of  dis- 
tinguished merit  in  the  wars  in  France  in  Henry  the 
Fifth's  and  Henry  the  Sixth's  times.  What  grace 
soever  the  Queen  conferred  upon  him,  it  was  not  to  her 
only  he  owed  the  fortune  which  the  reputation  of  his  wit 
made.  He  had  the  honour  to  meet  with  many  great  and 
uncommon  marks  of  favour  and  friendship  from  the 
Earl  of  Southampton,  famous  in  the  histories  of  that 
time  for  his  friendship  to  the  unfortunate  Earl  of 
Essex.  It  was  to  that  noble  lord  that  he  dedicated  his 
poem  of  "  Venus  and  Adonis."  There  is  one  instance 
so  singular  in  the  magnificence  of  this  patron  of 
Shakespeare's,  that  if  I  had  not  been  assured  that  the 
story  was  handed  down  by  Sir  William  D'Avenant,  who 
was  probably  very  well  acquainted  with  his  affairs,  I 
should  not  have  ventured  to  have  inserted;  that  my 
Lord  Southampton  at  one  time  gave  him  a  thousand 
pounds,  to  enable  him  to  go  through  with  a  purchase 
which  he  heard  he  had  a  mind  to.  A  bounty  very  great, 
and  very  rare  at  any  time,  and  almost  equal  to  that 
profuse  generosity  the  present  age  has  shown  to  French 
dancers  and  Italian  singers. 

What  particular  habitude  or  friendship  he  contracted 
with  private  men,  I  have  not  been  able  to  learn,  more 
than  that  every  one,  who  had  a  true  taste  of  merit,  and 
« Sir  John  Fastolf. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  13 

could  distinguish  men,  had  generally  a  just  value  and 
esteem  for  him.  His  exceeding  candour  and  good- 
nature must  certainly  have  inclined  all  the  gentler  part 
of  the  world  to  love  him,  as  the  power  of  his  wit  obliged 
the  men  of  the  most  delicate  knowledge  and  polite 
learning  to  admire  him. 

His  acquaintance  with  Ben  Jonson  began  with 
a  remarkable  piece  of  humanity  and  good-nature; 
Mr.  Jonson,  who  was  at  that  time  altogether  unknown 
to  the  world,  had  offered  one  of  his  plays  to  the  players, 
in  order  to  have  it  acted;  and  the  persons  into  whose 
hands  it  was  put,  after  having  turned  it  carelessly  and 
superciliously  over,  were  just  upon  returning  it  to 
him  with  an  ill-natured  answer,  that  it  would  be  of  no 
service  to  their  company;  when  Shakespeare  luckily 
cast  his  eye  upon  it,  and  found  something  so  well  in  it, 
as  to  engage  him  first  to  read  it  through,  and  after- 
wards to  recommend  Mr.  Jonson  and  his  writings  to 
the  publick. 

Jonson  was  certainly  a  very  good  scholar,  and  in 
that  had  the  advantage  of  Shakespeare ;  though  at  the 
same  time  I  believe  it  must  be  allowed,  that  what 
nature  gave  the  latter,  was  more  than  a  balance  for 
what  books  had  given  to  the  former;  and  the  judgment 
of  a  great  man  upon  this  occasion  was,  I  think,  very 
just  and  proper.  In  a  conversation  between  Sir  John 
Suckling,  Sir  William  D'Avenant,  Endymion  Porter, 
Mr.  Hales  of  Eton,  and  Ben  Jonson,  Sir  John 
Suckling,  who  was  a  professed  admirer  of  Shakespeare, 
had  undertaken  his  defence  against  Ben  Jonson 
with  some  warmth;  Mr.  Hales,  who  had  sat  still  for 
some  time,  told  them,  that  if  Mr.  Shakespeare  had  not 
read  the  ancients,  he  had  likewise  not  stolen  anything 


>v^^ 


14  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

from  them;  and  that  if  he  would  produce  any  one 
topick  finely  treated  by  any  one  of  them,  he  would 
undertake  to  show  something  upon  the  same  subject  at 
least  as  well  written  by  Shakespeare. 
v(  The  latter  part  of  his  life  was  spent,  as  all  men  of 
good  sense  will  wish  theirs  may  be,  in  ease,  retirement, 
and  the  conversation  of  his  friends.  He  had  the  good 
fortune  to  gather  an  estate  equal  to  his  occasion,  and, 
in  that,  to  his  wish;  and  is  said  to  have  spent  some 
years  before  his  death  at  his  native  Stratford.^  His 
pleasurable  wit  and  good-nature  engaged  him  in  the 
acquaintance,  and  entitled  him  to  the  friendship,  of  the 
gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood.  Amongst  them,  it  is 
a  story  almost  still  remembered  in  that  country  that 
he  had  a  particular  intimacy  with  Mr.  Combe,  an  old 
gentleman  noted  thereabouts  for  his  wealth  and 
usury:  it  happened,  that  in  a  pleasant  conversation 
amongst  their  common  friends,  Mr.  Combe  told 
Shakespeare  in  a  laughing  manner,  that  he  fancied  he 
intended  to  write  his  epitaph,  if  he  happened  to  out- 
live him;  and  since  he  could  not  know  what  might  be 
said  of  him  when  he  was  dead,  he  desired  it  might  be 
done  immediately;  upon  which  Shakespeare  gave  him 
these  four  verses : 

"  Ten  in  the  hundred  lies  here  engrav'd, 
'Tis  a  hundred  to  ten  his  soul  is  not  sav'd  I 
If  any  man  ask,  Who  lies  in  this  tomb? 
Oh!  Oh!  quoth  the  devil,  'tis  my  John-a  Combe." 

But  the  sharpness  of  the  satire  is  said  to  have  stung 
the  man  so  severely,  that  he  never  forgave  it.^^ 

•  His  permanent  retirement  is  placed  about  1613. 

"The  story  is  doubtful.  Combe  left  £5  to  Shakespeare  in  his 
will,  and  made  liberal  donations  both  to  his  creditors  and  to  the 
poor. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  15 

He  died  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  his  age,^^  and  was 
buried  on  the  north  side  of  the  chancel,  in  the  great 
church  at  Stratford,  where  a  monument  is  placed  in  the 
wall.     On  his  grave-stone  underneath  is, — 

"Good  friend,  for  Jesus*  sake  forbear 
To  dig  the  dust  inclosed  here. 
Blest  be  the  man  that  spares  these  stones. 
And  curst  be  he  that  moves  my  bones."" 

He  had  three  daughters,  of  which  two  lived  to  be 
married;  Judith,  the  elder,^^  to  one  Mr.  Thomas 
Quiney,  by  whom  she  had  three  sons,  who  all  died  with- 
out children;  and  Susanna,  who  was  his  favourite,  to 
Dr.  John  Hall,  a  physician  of  good  reputation  in  that 
country.  She  left  one  child  only,  a  daughter,  who  was 
married  first  to  Thomas  Nashe,  Esq.,  and  afterwards 
to  Sir  John  Barnard  of  Abington,  but  died  likewise 
without  issue.  This  is  what  I  could  learn  of  any  note, 
either  relating  to  himself  or  family;  the  character  of 
the  man  is  best  seen  in  his  writings.  But  since 
Ben  Jonson  has  made  a  sort  of  an  essay  towards  it  in 
his  Discoveries,  ^^  I  will  give  it  in  his  words : 

"  I  remember  the  players  have  often  mentioned  it  is 
an  honour  to  Shakespeare  that  in  writing  (whatsoever 
he  penned)  he  never  blotted  out  a  line.  My  answer 
hath  been.  Would  he  had  blotted  a  thousand!  which 
they  thought  a  malevolent  speech.  I  had  not  told 
posterity  this,  but  for  their  ignorance,  who  chose  that 

"The  parish  register  records  his  burial  April  25,  1616. 

"  Not  the  work  of  the  poet.    Author  unknown. 

^'  A  mistake.    Susanna  was  the  oldest.    Vide  Note  3,  page  8. 

14 "  Discoveries  Made  Upon  Men  and  Matters,"  a  farrago  of 
miscellaneous  notes  and  comments  unpublished  until  after 
Jonson's  death. 


16  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

circumstance  to  commend  their  friend  by,  wherein  he 
most  faulted:  and  to  justify  mine  own  candour,  for  I 
loved  the  man,  and  do  honour  his  memory,  on  this  side 
idolatry,  as  much  as  any.  He  was,  indeed,  honest,  and 
of  an  open  and  free  nature,  had  an  excellent  fancy, 
brave  notions,  and  gentle  expressions ;  wherein  he  flowed 
with  that  facility,  that  sometimes  it  was  necessary  he 
should  be  stopped:  Sufflaminandus  erat,  as  Augustus 
said  of  Haterius.  His  wit  was  in  his  own  power ;  would 
the  rule  of  it  had  been  so  too.  Many  times  he  fell  into 
those  things  which  could  not  escape  laughter;  as  when 
he  said  in  the  person  of  Caesar,  one  speaking  to  him, 

" '  Caesar,  thou  dost  me  wrong.* 
He  replied: 

"'Caesar  did  never  wrong,  but  with  just  cause.'" 

and  such  like,  which  were  ridiculous.  But  he 
redeemed  his  vices  with  his  virtues;  there  was  ever 
more  in  him  to  be  praised  than  to  be  pardoned." 

As  for  the  passage  which  he  mentions  out  of 
Shakespeare,  there  is  somewhat  like  it  in  "  Julius 
Caesar,"  but  without  the  absurdity ;  nor  did  I  ever  meet 
with  it  in  any  edition  that  I  have  seen  as  quoted  by 
Mr.  Jonson. 

Besides  his  plays  in  this  edition,  there  are  two  or 

three  ascribed  to  him  by  Mr.  Langbaine,  which  I  have 

never  seen,  and  know  nothing  of.     He  writ  likewise 

"  Venus  and  Adonis,"  and  "  Tarquin  and  Lucrece,"  in 

stanzas,  which  have  been  printed  in  a  late  collection  of 

poems.       As    to    the    character    given    of    him    by 

Ben  Jonson,  there  is  a  good  deal  true  in  it;  but  I 

"  Know  Caesar  doth  no  wrong;  nor  without  cause  will  he  be 
satisfied.— "  JuUus  Caesar,"  III.  1. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  17 

believe  it  may  be  as  well  expressed  by  what  Horace 
says  of  the  first  Romans,  who  wrote  tragedy  upon  the 
Greek  models,  (or  indeed  translated  them),  in  hii 
epistle  to  Augustus : 

"...  naturd  sublimis  ^  acer: 
Nam  spiral  tragicum  satis,  et  feliciter  audet, 
8ed  turpem  putat  in  chartis  metuitque  lituram." 

As  I  have  not  proposed  to  myself  to  enter  into  a 
large  and  complete  criticism  upon  Shakespeare's 
works,  so  I  will  only  take  the  liberty  with  all  due  sub- 
mission to  the  judgment  of  others,  to  observe  some  of 
those  things  I  have^been  pleased  with  in  looking 
him  over. 

—His  plays  are  properly  to  be  distinguished  only  into 
comedies  and  tragedies.  Those  which  are  called  his- 
tories, and  even  some  of  his  comedies,  are  really 
tragedies,  with  a  run  or  mixture  of  comedy  amongst 
them.  That  way  of  tragi-comedy  was  the  common 
mistake  of  that  age,  and  is  indeed  become  so  agreeable 
to  the  English  taste,  that  though  the  severer  criticks 
among  us  cannot  bear  it,  yet  the  generality  of  our 
audiences  seem  to  be  better  pleased  with  it  than  with 
an  exact  tragedy.  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor," 
"The  Comedy  of  Errors,"  and  "The  Taming  of  a 
Shrew,"  are  all  pure  comedy;  the  rest,  however  they 
are  called,  have  something  of  both  kinds.  It  is  not  very 
easy  to  determine  which  way  of  writing  he  was  most 
excellent  in.  There  is  certainly  a  great  deal  of  enter- 
tainment in  his  comical  humours;  and  though  they  did 
not  then  strike  at  all  ranks  of  people,  as  the  satire  of 
the  present  age  has  taken  the  liberty  to  do,  yet  there  is 
a  pleasing  and  a  well-distinguished  variety  in  those 


18  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

characters  which  he  thought  fit  to  meddle  with. 
Falsi  a  ff  is  allowed  by  every  body  to  be  a  master-piece ; 
the  character  is  always  well  sustained,  though  drawn 
out  into  the  length  of  three  plays;  and  even  the 
account  of  his  death  given  by  his  old  landlady 
Mrs.  Quickly,  in  the  first  Act  of  "  Henry  the  Fifth," 
though  it  be  extremely  natural,  is  yet  as  diverting  as 
any  part  of  his  life.  If  there  be  any  fault  in  the 
draught  he  has  made  of  this  lewd  old  fellow,  it  is,  that 
though  he  has  made  him  a  thief,  lying,  cowardly,  vain- 
glorious, and  in  short  every  way  vicious,  yet  he  has 
given  him  so  much  wit  as  to  make  him  almost  too 
agreeable ;  and  I  do  not  know  whether  some  people  have 
not,  in  remembrance  of  the  diversion  he  had  formerly 
aff^orded  them,  been  sorry  to  see  his  friend  Hal  use  him 
so  scurvily,  when  he  comes  to  the  crown  in  the  end  of 
The  Second  Part  of  "  Henry  the  Fourth."  Amongst 
other  extravagancies,  in  "  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,"  he  made  him  a  deer-stealer,  that  he  might 
at  the  same  time  remember  his  Warwickshire  prose- 
cutor, under  the  name  of  Justice  Shallow;  he  has  given 
him  very  near  the  same  coat  of  arms  which  Dugdale,  in 
his  "  Antiquities "  of  that  county,  describes  for  a 
family  there,  and  makes  the  Welsh  parson  descant  very 
pleasantly  upon  them.  That  whole  play  is  admirable; 
the  humours  are  various  and  well  opposed;  the  main 
design,  which  is  to  cure  Ford  of  his  unreasonable 
jealousy,  is  extremely  well  conducted.  In  "  Twelfth- 
Night  "  there  is  something  singularly  ridiculous  and 
pleasant  in  the  fantastical  steward  Malvolio,  The 
parasite  and  the  vain-glorious  in  ParolleSy  in  "  All's 
Well  That  Ends  Well,"  is  as  good  as  any  thing  of  that 
kind    of    Plautus    or    Terence,    Petrucio    in    "  The 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  19 

Taming  of  the  Shrew,"  is  an  uncommon  piece  of 
humour.  The  conversation  of  Benedick  and  Beatrice, 
in  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  and  of  Rosalind,  in 
**  As  You  Like  It,"  have  much  wit  and  sprightliness  all 
along.  His  clowns,  without  which  character  there  was 
hardly  any  play  writ  in  that  time,  are  all  very  enter- 
taining ;  and,  I  believe,  Thersites  in  "  Troilus  and 
Cressida,"  and  Apemantus  in  "  Timon,"  will  be  allowed 
to  be  master-pieces  of  ill-nature  and  satirical  snarling. 
To  these  I  might  add,  that  incomparable  character  of 
Shylock  the  Jew,  in  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice  " ;  but 
though  we  have  seen  that  play  received  and  acted  as  a 
comedy,  and  the  part  of  the  Jew  performed  by  an 
excellent  comedian,  yet  I  cannot  but  think  it  was 
designed  tragically  by  the  author.  ^*  There  appears  in 
it  such  a  deadly  spirit  of  revenge,  such  a  savage  fierce- 
ness and  fellness,  and  such  a  bloody  designation  of 
cruelty  and  mischief,  as  cannot  agree  either  with  the 
style  or  characters  of  comedy.  The  play  itself,  take 
it  altogether,  seems  to  me  to  be  one  of  the  most  finished 
of  any  of  Shakespeare's.  The  tale,  indeed,  in  that 
part  relating  to  the  caskets,  and  the  extravagant  and 
unusual  kind  of  bond  given  by  Antonio,  is  too  much 
removed  from  the  rules  of  probability;  but  taking  the 
fact  for  granted,  we  must  allow  it  to  be  very  beauti- 
fully written.  There  is  something  in  the  friendship  of 
Antonio  to  Bassanio  very  great,  generous,  and  tender. 
The  whole  fourth  act  (supposing,  as  I  said,  the  fact  to 
be  probable),  is  extremely  fine.  But  there  are  two 
passages  that  deserve  a  particular  notice.  The  first 
10  In  1701  George  Granville,  Lord  Landsdowne,  produced  a 
version  of  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice  "  called  the  "  Jew  of  Venice," 
in  which  the  character  of  Shylock  was  exhibited  as  a  buffoon. 
This  version  held  the  stage  for  more  than  a  generation. 


so  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

is,  what  Portia  says  in  praise  of  mercy,  and  the  other 
on  the  power  of  musick.  The  melancholy  of  Jaques, 
in  "  As  You  Like  It,"  is  as  singular  and  odd  as  it  is 
diverting.    And  if,  what  Horace  says, 

"Diddle  est  proprie  communia  dicere" 

it  will  be  a  hard  task  for  any  one  to  go  beyond  him  in 
the  description  of  the  several  degrees  and  ages  of 
man's  life,  though  the  thought  be  old,  and  common 
enough. 

"...  All  the  world's  a  stage. 
And  all  the  men  and  women  merely  players; 
They  have  their  exits  and  their  entrances. 
And  one  man  in  his  time  plays  many  parts. 
His  acts  being  seven  ages.    At  first,  the  infant. 
Mewling  and  puking  in  the  nurse's  arms: 
And  then  the  whining  school-boy  with  his  satchel. 
And  shining  morning  face,  creeping  like  snail 
Unwillingly  to  school.     And  then,  the  lover 
Sighing  like  furnace,  with  a  woful  ballad 
Made  to  his  mistress's  eye-brow.    Then,  a  soldier; 
Full  of  strange  oaths,  and  bearded  like  the  pard. 
Jealous  in  honour,  sudden  and  quick  in  quarrel. 
Seeking  the  bubble  reputation 

Ev'n  in  the  cannon's  mouth.    And  then,  the  justice; 
In  fair  round  belly,  with  good  capon  lin'd. 
With  eyes  severe,  and  beard  of  formal  cut. 
Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances; 
And  so  he  plays  his  part.    The  sixth  age  shifts 
Into  the  lean  and  slipper'd  pantaloon; 
With  spectacles  on  nose,  and  pouch  on  side; 
His  youthful  hose,  well  sav'd,  a  world  too  wide 
For  his  shrunk  shank;  and  his  big  manly  voice. 
Turning  again  tow'rd  childish  treble,  pipes 
And  whistles  in  his  sound:    Last  scene  of  all. 
That  ends  this  strange  eventful  history. 
In  second  childishness,  and  mere  oblivion; 
Sans  teeth,  sans  eyes,  sans  taste,  sans  everything."  it 

"  "  As  You  Like  It."    Act  II.  7. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  81 

His  images  are  indeed  every  where  so  lively,  that  the 
thing  he  would  represent  stands  full  before  you,  and 
you  possess  every  part  of  it.  I  will  venture  to  point 
out  one  more,  which  is,  I  think,  as  strong  and  as 
uncommon  as  any  thing  I  ever  saw;  it  is  an  image  of 
Patience.     Speaking  of  a  maid  in  love,  he  says : 

"...  She  never  told  her  love. 
But  let  concealment,  like  a  worm  i'  th'  bud. 
Feed  on  her  damask  cheek:  she  pin'd  in  thought, 
And  sate  like  Patience  on  a  monument. 
Smiling  at  grief."  " 

What  an  image  is  here  given !  and  what  a  task  would  it 
have  been  for  the  greatest  masters  of  Greece  and 
Rome  to  have  expressed  the  passions  designed  by  this 
sketch  of  Statuary!  The  style  of  his  comedy  is,  in 
general  natural  to  the  characters,  and  easy  in  itself; 
and  the  wit  most  commonly  sprightly  and  pleasing, 
except  in  those  places  where  he  runs  into  doggerel 
rhymes,  as  in  "  The  Comedy  of  Errors,"  and  some 
other  plays.  As  for  his  jingling  sometimes,  and  play- 
ing upon  words,  it  was  the  common  vice  of  the  age  he 
lived  in :  and  if  we  find  it  in  the  pulpits,  made  use  of  as 
an  ornament  to  the  sermons  of  some  of  the  gravest 
divines  of  those  times,  perhaps  it  may  not  be  thought 
too  light  for  the  stage. 

But  certainly  the  greatness  of  this  author's  genius 
does  no  where  so  much  appear,  as  where  he  gives  his 
imagination  an  entire  loose  rein,  and  raises  his  fancy 
to  a  flight  above  mankind,  and  the  limits  of  the  visible 
world.  Such  are  his  attempts  in  "The  Tempest," 
"A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,"  "Macbeth,"  and 
"  Hamlet."     Of  these,    "  The    Tempest,"    however    it 

^  "  Twelfth  Night."    Act  II.  4. 


22  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

comes  to  be  placed  the  first  by  the  publishers  of  his 
works,  can  never  have  been  the  first  written  by  him: 
it  seems  to  me  as  perfect  in  its  kind,  as  almost  any 
thing  we  have  of  his.  One  may  observe,  that  the 
unities  are  kept  here,  with  an  exactness  uncommon  to 
the  liberties  of  his  writing;  though  that  was  what,  I 
suppose,  he  valued  himself  least  upon,  since  his  excel- 
lencies were  all  of  another  kind.  I  am  very  sensible 
that  he  does,  in  this  play,  depart  too  much  from  that 
likeness  to  truth  which  ought  to  be  observed  in  these 
sort  of  writings ;  yet  he  does  it  so  very  finely,  that  one 
is  easily  drawn  in  to  have  more  faith  for  his  sake,  than 
reason  does  well  allow  of.  His  magick  has  something 
in  it  very  solemn  and  very  poetical:  and  that  extrava- 
gant character  of  Caliban  is  mighty  well  sustained, 
shows  a  wonderful  invention  in  the  author,  who  could 
strike  out  such  a  particular  wild  image,  and  is  certainly 
one  of  the  finest  and  most  uncommon  grotesques  that 
ever  was  seen.  The  observation,  which  I  have  been 
informed,  three  very  great  men  concurred  in  making 
upon  this  part,  ^^  was  extremely  just;  that  Shakespeare 
had  not  only  found  out  a  new  character  in  his  Caliban, 
but  had  also  devised  and  adopted  a  new  manner  of 
language  for  that  character. 

It  is  the  same  magick  that  raises  the  Fairies 
in  "A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,"  the  Witches 
in  "Macbeth,"  and  the  Ghost  in  "Hamlet,"  with 
thoughts  and  language  so  proper  to  the  parts  they  sus- 
tain, and  so  peculiar  to  the  talent  of  this  writer.  But 
of  the  two  last  of  these  plays  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
take  notice,  among  the  tragedies  of  Mr.  Shakespeare. 

"Lord  Falkland,  Lord  C.  J.  Vaughan  and  Mr.  Selden. — Bowe'a 
note. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  2.3 

If  one  undertook  to  examine  the  greatest  part  of  these 
by  those  rules  which  are  established  by  Aristotle,  and 
taken  from  the  model  of  the  Grecian  stage,  ^^  it  would 
be  no  very  hard  task  to  find  a  great  many  faults ;  but  as 
Shakespeare  lived  under  a  kind  of  mere  light  of  nature, 
and  had  never  been  made  acquainted  with  the  regularity 
of  those  written  precepts,  so  it  would  be  hard  to  judge 
him  by  a  law  he  knew  nothing  of.  We  are  to  consider 
him  as  a  man  that  lived  in  a  state  of  almost  universal 
licence  and  ignorance:  there  was  no  established  judge, 
but  every  one  took  the  liberty  to  write  according  to  the 
dictates  of  his  own  fancy.  When  one  considers,  that 
there  is  not  one  play  before  him  of  a  reputation  good 
enough  to  entitle  it  to  an  appearance  on  the  present 
stage,  it  cannot  but  be  a  matter  of  great  wonder  that 
he  should  advance  dramatick  poetry  so  far  as  he  did. 
The  fable  is  what  is  generally  placed  the  first,  among 
those  that  are  reckoned  the  constituent  parts  of  a 
tragick  or  heroick  poem ;  not,  perhaps,  as  it  is  the  most 
difficult  or  beautjful,  but  as  it  is  the  first  properly  to 
be  thought  of  in  the  contrivance  and  course  of  the 
whole;  and  with  the  fable  ought  to  be  considered  the 
fit  disposition,  order,  and  conduct  of  its  several  parts. 
As  it  is  not  in  this  province  of  the  drama  that  the 
strength  and  mastery  of  Shakespeare  lay,  so  I  shall 
not  undertake  the  tedious  and  ill-natured  trouble  to 
point  out  the  several  faults  he  was  guilty  of  in  it.  His 
tales  were  seldom  invented,  but  rather  taken  either  from 
true  history,  or  novels  and  romances :  and  he  commonly 
made  use  of  them  in  that  order,  with  those  incidents,  and 
that  extent  of  time  in  which  he  found  them  in  the 
authors  from  whence  he  borrowed  them.  So  the 
"The  so-called  "unities"  of  time,  place  and  action. 


g4  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

"  Winter's  Tale "  which  is  taken  from  an  old  book, 
called  "The  Delectable  History  of  Dorastus  and 
Fawnia,"  contains  the  space  of  sixteen  or  seventeen 
years,  and  the  scene  is  sometimes  laid  in  Bohemia,  and 
sometimes  in  Sicily,  according  to  the  original  order  of 
the  story.  Almost  all  his  historical  plays  comprehend  a 
great  length  of  time,  and  very  different  and  distinct 
places:  and  in  his  "Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  the  scene 
travels  over  the  greatest  part  of  the  Roman  empire. 
But  in  recompence  for  his  carelessness  in  this  point, 
when  he  comes  to  another  part  of  the  drama,  the  man- 
ners of  his  characters,  in  acting  or  speaking  what  is 
proper  for  them,  and  fit  to  be  shown  by  the  poet,  he  may 
be  generally  justified^  and  in  very  many  places  greatly 
commended.  For  those  plays  which  he  has  taken  from 
the  English  or  Roman  history,  let  any  man  compare 
them,  and  he  will  find  the  character  as  exact  in  the  poet 
as  the  historian.  He  seems  indeed  so  far  from  propos- 
ing to  himself  any  one  action  for  a  subject,  that  the 
title  very  often  tells  you,  it  is  The  Life  of  King  John, 
King  Richard,  &c.  What  can  be  more  agreeable  to 
the  idea  our  historians  give  of  "  Henry  the  Sixth," 
than  the  picture  Shakespeare  has  drawn  of  him.?  His 
manners  are  everywhere  exactly  the  same  with  the 
story;  one  finds  him  still  described  with  simplicity, 
passive  sanctity,  want  of  courage,  weakness  of  mind, 
and  easy  submission  to  the  governance  of  an  imperious 
wife,  or  prevailing  faction:  though  at  the  same  time 
the  poet  does  justice  to  his  good  qualities,  and  moves 
the  pity  of  his  audience  for  him,  by  showing  him  pious, 
disinterested,  a  contemner  of  the  things  of  this  world, 
and  wholly  resigned  to  the  severest  dispensations  of 
God's    providence.     There   is    a    short    scene    in    The 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  25 

Second  Part  of  "  Henry  the  Sixth,"  21  which  I  cannot 
but  think  admirable  in  its  kind.  Cardinal  Beaufort,  who 
had  murdered  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  is  shown  in  the 
last  agonies  on  his  death-bed,  with  the  good  king 
praying  over  him.  There  is  so  much  terror  in  one,  so 
much  tenderness  and  moving  piety  in  the  other,  as 
must  touch  any  one  who  is  capable  either  of  fear  or 
pity.  In  his  "  Henry  the  Eighth,"  that  prince  is 
drawn  with  that  greatness  of  mind  and  all  those  good 
qualities  which  are  attributed  to  him  in  any  account  of 
his  reign.  If  his  faults  are  not  shown  in  an  equal 
degree,  and  the  shades  in  this  picture  do  not  bear  a 
just  proportion  to  the  lights,  it  is  not  that  the  artist 
wanted  either  colours  or  skill  in  the  disposition  of 
them ;  but  the  truth,  I  believe,  might  be,  that  he  forbore 
doing  it  out  of  regard  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  since  it 
could  have  been  no  very  great  respect  to  the  memory 
of  his  mistress,  to  have  exposed  some  certain  parts  of 
her  father's  life  upon  the  stage.  He  has  dealt  much 
more  freely  with  the  minister  of  that  great  king;  and 
certainly  nothing  was  ever  more  justly  written,  than 
the  character  of  Cardinal  Wolsey,  He  has  shown  him 
insolent  in  his  prosperity;  and  yet,  by  a  wonderful 
address,  he  makes  his  fall  and  ruin  the  subject  of  gen- 
eral compassion.  The  whole  man,  with  his  vices  and 
virtues,  is  finely  and  exactly  described  in  the  second 
scene  of  the  fourth  act.  The  distresses  likewise  of 
Queen  Katharine,  in  this  play,  are  very  movingly 
touched;  and  though  the  art  of  the  poet  has  screened 
King  Henry  from  any  gross  imputation  of  injustice, 
yet  one  is  inclined  to  wish,  the  Queen  had  met  with  a 
fortune  more  worthy  of  her  birth  and  virtue.  Nor  are 
"  Act  III.  3. 


^6  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

the  manners,  proper  to  the  persons  represented  less 
justly  observed,  in  those  characters  taken  from  the 
Roman  history;  and  of  this,  the  fierceness  and 
impatience  of  Coriolanus,  his  courage  and  disdain  of 
the  common  people,  the  virtue  and  philosophical  temper 
of  Brutus,  and  the  irregular  greatness  of  mind  in 
M.  Antony,  are  beautiful  proofs.  For  the  two  last 
especially,  you  find  them  exactly  as  they  are  described 
by  Plutarch,  from  whom  certainly  Shakespeare  copied 
them.  He  has  indeed  followed  his  original  pretty  close, 
and  taken  in  several  little  incidents  that  might  have 
been  spared  in  a  play.  But,  as  I  hinted  before,  his 
design  seems  most  commonly  rather  to  describe  those 
great  men  in  the  several  fortunes  and  accidents  of 
their  lives,  than  to  take  any  single  great  action,  and 
form  his  work  simply  upon  that.  However,  there  are 
some  of  his  pieces,  where  the  fable  is  founded  upon  one 
action  only.  Such  are  more  especially,  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet,"  "Hamlet,"  and  "Othello."  The  design  in 
"  Romeo  and  Juliet "  is  plainly  the  punishment  of 
their  two  families,  for  the  unreasonable  feuds  and 
animosities  that  had  been  so  long  kept  up  between 
them,  and  occasioned  the  effusion  of  so  much  blood.  In 
the  management  of  this  story,  he  has  shown  something 
wonderfully  tender  and  passionate  in  the  love-part,  and 
very  pitiful  in  the  distress.  "  Hamlet  "  is  founded  on 
much  the  same  tale  with  the  "  Electra  "  of  Sophocles. 
In  each  of  them  a  young  prince  is  engaged  to  revenge 
the  death  of  his  father,  their  mothers  are  equally 
guilty,  are  both  concerned  in  the  murder  of  their 
husbands,  and  are  afterwards  married  to  the  mur- 
derers. There  is  in  the  first  part  of  the  Greek  tragedy 
something  very  moving  in  the  grief  of  Electra;  but, 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  rt 

as  Mr.  Dacier  has  observed,  there  is  something  very 
unnatural  and  shocking  in  the  manners  he  has  given 
that  princess  and  Orestes  in  the  latter  part.  Orestes 
imbrues  his  hands  in  the  blood  of  his  own  mother ;  and 
that  barbarous  action  is  performed,  though  not  imme- 
diately upon  the  stage,  yet  so  near,  that  the  audiences 
hear  Clytemnestra  crying  out  to  ^gysthus  for  help, 
and  to  her  son  for  mercy:  while  Electra,  her  daughter, 
and  a  princess,  (both  of  them  characters  that  ought 
to  have  appeared  with  more  decency),  stands  upon 
the  stage,  and  encourages  her  brother  in  the  parricide. 
What  horror  does  this  not  raise!  Clytemnestra  was 
a  wicked  woman,  and  had  deserved  to  die;  nay,  in 
the  truth  of  the  story,  she  was  killed  by  her  own 
son;  put  to  represent  an  action  of  this  kind  on  the 
stage,  is  certainly  an  offence  against  those  rules  of 
manners  proper  to  the  persons,  that  ought  to  be 
observed  there.  On  the  contrary,  let  us  only  look  a 
little  on  the  conduct  of  Shakespeare.  Hamlet  is  repre- 
sented with  the  same  piety  towards  his  father,  and 
resolution  to  revenge  his  death,  as  Orestes;  he  has  the 
same  abhorrence  for  his  mother's  guilt,  which,  to 
provoke  him  the  more,  is  heightened  by  incest :  but  it  is 
with  wonderful  art  and  justness  of  judgment,  that  the 
poet  restrains  him  from  doing  violence  to  his  mother. 
To  prevent  anything  of  that  kind,  he  makes  his  father's 
Ghost  forbid  that  part  of  his  vengeance: 

"But  howsoever  thou  pursu'st  this  act. 
Taint  not  thy  mind,  nor  let  thy  soul  contrive 
Against  thy  mother  aught;  leave  her  to  heaven, 
And  to  those  thorns  that  in  her  bosom  lodge. 
To  prick  and  sting  her." 

This    is    to   distinguish    rightly   between   horror   and 


28  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

terror.  The  latter  is  a  proper  passion  of  tragedy,  but 
the  former  ought  always  to  be  carefully  avoided.  And 
certainly  no  dramatick  writer  ever  succeeded  better  in 
raising  terror  in  the  minds  of  an  audience  than 
Shakespeare  has  done.  The  whole  tragedy  of 
"  Macbeth,"  but  more  especially  the  scene  where  the 
Ki/ng  is  murdered  in  the  second  Act,  as  well  as  this 
play,  is  a  noble  proof  of  that  manly  spirit  with  which 
he  writ ;  and  both  show  how  powerful  he  was,  in  giving 
the  strongest  motions  to  our  souls  that  they  are  capa- 
ble of.  I  cannot  leave  Hamlet,  without  taking  notice 
of  the  advantage  with  which  we  have  seen  this  master- 
piece of  Shakespeare  distinguish  itself  upon  the  stage, 
by  Mr.  Betterton's  fine  performance  of  that  part.  ^^ 
A  man,  who,  though  he  had  no  other  good  qualities,  as 
he  has  a  great  many,  must  have  made  his  way  into  the 
esteem  of  all  men  of  letters,  by  this  only  excellency. 
No  man  is  better  acquainted  with  Shakespeare's  manner 
of  expression,  and  indeed  he  has  studied  him  so  well, 
and  is  so  much  a  master  of  him,  that  whatever  part  of 
his  he  performs,  he  does  it  as  if  it  had  been  written  on 
purpose  for  him,  and  that  the  author  had  exactly  con- 
ceived it  as  he  plays  it.  I  must  own  a  particular  obliga- 
tion to  him,  for  the  most  considerable  part  of  the 
passages  relating  to  this  life,  which  I  have  here  trans- 
mitted to  the  pubhck ;  his  veneration  for  the  memory  of 
Shakespeare  having  engaged  him  to  make  a  journey  to 
Warwickshire  on  purpose  to  gather  up  what  remains 
he  could,  of  a  name  for  which  he  had  so  great  a 
veneration. 
"Thomas  Betterton  (1634-1710),  a  great  actor  of  Shakes- 
pearean parts.  He  was  given  a  royal  funeral  in  Westminster 
Abbey. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  29 


ALEXANDER    POPE 

1688-1744 

THE  second  editor  was  Alexander  Pope,  bom 
May  22,  1688,  died  May  30,  1744. 
Pope  was  a  self-made  man  In  the  realm  of 
letters.  He  had  but  little  schooling  and 
was  self-taught  in  the  languages,  having  as  a  basis  for 
his  Latin  and  Greek  some  lessons  from  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest. 

In  his  sixteenth  year  he  began  to  frequent  the 
London  coffee  houses,  where  wits  and  writers  of  the  day 
most  did  congregate.  From  the  moment  of  making 
friends  he  made  quarrels.  His  satire  was  bitter 
and   cruel. 

We  omit  mention  of  his  other  literary  work,  which  is 
sufficiently  well  known,  to  note  that  in  1725,  eleven 
years  after  Rowe's  second  edition,  appeared  Pope's 
in  six  volumes  quarto.  His  critical  work  in  the  notes 
by  no  means  takes  rank  with  his  other  literary  achieve- 
ments. He  set  the  pace  for  future  critics,  however. 
His  malignant  genius  fastened  upon  Lewis  Theobald, 
whom  he  made  a  hero  of  the  "  Dunciad,"  because 
of  certain  comments  on  Pope's  methods  of  using 
Shakespeare's  text.  In  1728  he  issued  a  second  edition, 
and  his  text  was  reprinted  after  his  death  at  Glasgow 
in  1766,  and  in  Birmingham  in  1768.  He  died  at 
Twickenham. 


30  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

ALEXANDER   POPE'S    PREFACE 

[To  quarto  edition  of  the  works,  in  six  volumes,  1728.] 

It  is  not  my  design  to  enter  into  a  criticism  upon  this 
author:  though  to  do  it  effectually,  and  not  super- 
ficially, would  be  the  best  occasion  that  any  just  writer 
could  take,  to  form  the  judgment  and  taste  of  our 
nation.  For  of  all  English  poets  Shakespeare  must 
be  confessed  to  be  the  fairest  and  fullest  subject  for 
criticism,  and  to  afford  the  most  numerous,  as  well  as 
most  conspicuous  instances,  both  of  beauties  and  faults 
of  all  sorts.  But  this  far  exceeds  the  bounds  of  a 
preface,  the  business  of  which  is  only  to  give  an 
account  of  the  fate  of  his  works,  and  the  disadvantages 
under  which  they  have  been  transmitted  to  us.  We  shall 
hereby  extenuate  many  faults  which  are  his,  and  clear 
him  from  the  imputation  ^of  many  which  are  not?  a 
design,  which,  though  it  can  be  no  guide  to  future 
criticks  to  do  him  justice  in  one  way,  will  at  least  be 
sufficient  to  prevent  their  doing  him  an  injustice  in 
the  other. 

I  cannot  however  but  mention  some  of  his  principal 
and  characteristick  excellencies,  for  which  (notwith- 
standing his  defects)  he  is  justly  and  universally 
elevated  above  all  other  dramatick  writers.  Not  that 
this  is  the  proper  place  of  praising  him,  but  because  I 
would  not  omit  any  occasion  of  doing  it. 

If  ever  any  author  deserved  the  name  of  an  original, 
it  was  Shakespeare.  Homer  himself  drew  not  his  art 
so  immediately  from  the  fountains  of  nature;  it  pro- 
ceeded through  Egyptian  strainers  and  channels,  and 
came  to  him  not  without  some  tincture  of  the  learning, 


//^ 


v^ 


V>  OF  THE        ^ 

UNIVERSITY 


i^ALIFJ 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  31 

or  some  cast  of  the  models,  of  those  before  him.  The 
poetry  of  Shakespeare  was  inspiration  indeed:  he  is 
not  so  much  an  imitator,  as  an  instrument,  of  nature: 
and  it  is  not  so  just  to  say  that  he  speaks  from  her,  as 
that  she  speaks  through  him. 

His  characters  are  so  much  nature  herself,  that  it  is 
a  sort  of  injury  to  call  them  by  so  distant  a  name  as 
copies  of  her.  Those  of  other  poets  have  a  constant 
resemblance,  which  shows  that  they  received  them  from 
one  another,  and  were  but  multipliers  of  the  same 
image:  each  picture,  like  a  mock-rainbow,  is  but  the 
reflection  of  a  reflection.  But  every  single  character 
in  Shakespeare  is  as  much  an  individual,  as  those  in 
life  itself ;  it  is  as  impossible  to  find  any  two  alike ;  and 
such,  as  from  their  relation  or  affinity  in  any  respect 
appear  most  to  be  twins,  will,  upon  comparison,  be 
found  remarkably  distinct.  To  this  life  and  variety  of 
characters,  we  must  add  the  wonderful  preservation 
of  it;  which  is  such  throughout  his  plays,  that  had  all 
the  speeches  been  printed  without  the  very  names  of 
the  persons,  I  believe  one  might  have  applied  them 
with  certainty  to  every  speaker. 

The  power  over  our  passions  was  never  possessed  in 
a  more  eminent  degree,  or  displayed  in  so  diff^erent 
instances.  Yet  all  along  there  is  seen  no  labour,  no 
pains  to  raise  them;  no  preparation  to  guide  or  guess 
to  the  eff^ect,  or  be  perceived  to  lead  towards  it:  but 
the  heart  swells,  arid  the  tears  burst  out,  just  at  the 
proper  places:  we  are  surprised  the  moment  we  weep; 
and  yet  upon  reflection  find  the  passion  so  just,  that  we 
should  be  surprised  if  we  had  not  wept,  and  wept  at 
that  very  moment. 

How    astonishing    is    it    again,  that    the    passions 


S2  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

directly  opposite  to  these,  laughter  and  spleen,  are  no 
less  at  his  command;  that  he  is  not  more  a  master  of 
the  great  than  of  the  ridiculous  in  human  nature;  of 
our  noblest  tendernesses  than  of  our  vainest  foibles ;  of 
our  strongest  emotions,  than  of  our  idlest  sensations! 

Nor  does  he  only  excel  in  the  passions ;  in  the  coolness 
of  reflection  and  reasoning  he  is  full  as  admirable.  % 
His  sentiments  are  not  only  in  general  the  most  per- 
tinent and  judicious  upon  every  subject;  but,  by  a 
talent  very  peculiar,  something  between  penetration 
and  felicity,  he  hits  upon  that  particular  point  on 
which  the  bent  of  each  argument  turns,  or  the  force  of 
each  motive  depends.  This  is  perfectly  amazing  from 
a  man  of  no  education  or  experience  in  those  great  and 
publick  scenes  of  life  which  are  usually  the  subject  of 
his  thoughts:  so  that  he  seems  to  have  known  the 
world  by  intuition,  to  have  looked  through  human 
nature  at  one  glance,  and  to  be  the  only  author  that 
gives  ground  for  a  very  new  opinion,  that  the 
philosopher,  and  even  the  man  of  the  world  may  be 
born  as  well  as  the  poet. 

It  must  be  owned,  that  with  all  these  great  excellencies, 
he  has  almost  as  great  defects;  and  that  as  he  has 
certainly  written  better,  so  he  has  perhaps  written 
worse  than  any  other.  But  I  think  I  can  in  some 
measure  account  for  these  defects,  from  several  causes 
and  accidents;  without  which  it  is  hard  to  imagine 
that  so  large  and  so  enlightened  a  mind  could  ever  have 
been  susceptible  of  them.  That  all  these  contingencies 
should  unite  to  his  disadvantage  seems  to  me  almost  as 
singularly  unlucky,  as  that  so  many  various  (nay 
contrary)  talents  should  meet  in  one  man,  was  happy 
and  extraordinary. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  33 

It  must  be  allowed  that  stage-poetry,  of  all  other,  is 
more  particularly  levelled  to  please  the  populace,  and 
its  success  more  immediately  depending  upon  the 
common  suffrage.  One  cannot  therefore  wonder,  if 
Shakespeare,  having  at  his  first  appearance  no  other 
aim  in  his  writings  than  to  procure  a  subsistence, 
directed  his  endeavors  solely  to  hit  the  taste  and 
humour  that  then  prevailed.  The  audience  was  gen- 
erally composed  of  the  meaner  sort  of  people;  and 
therefore  the  images  of  life  were  to  be  drawn  from 
those  of  their  own  rank:  accordingly  we  find,  that  not 
our  author's  only,  but  almost  all  the  old  comedies  have 
their  scene  among  tradesmen  and  mechanicks:  and 
even  their  historical  plays  strictly  follow  the  common 
old  stories  or  vulgar  traditions  of  that  kind  of  people. 
In  tragedy,  nothing  was  so  sure  to  surprise  and  cause 
admiration,  as  the  most  strange,  unexpected,  and  con- 
sequently most  unnatural,  events  and  incidents;  the 
most  exaggerated  thoughts;  the  most  verbose  and 
bombast  expression;  the  most  pompous  rhymes, 
and  thundering  versification.  In  comedy,  nothing  wa.s 
so  sure  to  please,  as  mean  bufFoonry,  vile  ribaldry  and 
unmannerly  jest  of  fools  and  clowns.  Yet  even  in 
these  our  author's  wit  buoys  up,  and  is  borne  above  his 
subject:  his  genius  in  those  low  parts  is  like  some 
prince  of  a  romance  in  the  disguise  of  a  shepherd  or 
peasant;  a  certain  greatness  and  spirit  now  and  then 
break  out,  which  manifest  his  higher  extraction  and 
qualities. 

It  may  be  added,  that  not  only  the  common  audience 
had  no  notion  of  the  rules  of  writing,  but  few  even  of 
the  better  sort  piqued  themselves  upon  any  great 
degree   of   knowledge    or    nicety   that   way;   till   Ben 


84  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Jonson  getting  possession  of  the  stage,  brought  crit- 
ical learning  into  vogue.  And  that  this  was  not  done 
without  difficulty,  may  appear  from  those  frequent 
lessons  (and  indeed  almost  declamations)  which  he  was 
forced  to  prefix  to  his  first  plays,  and  put  into  the 
mouth  of  his  actors,  the  grex,  chorus,  S^c,  to  remove 
the  prejudices,  and  inform  the  judgment  of  his 
hearers.  'Till  then,  our  authors  had  no  thoughts  of 
writing  on  the  model  of  the  ancients:  their  tragedies 
were  only  histories  in  dialogue;  and  their  comedies 
followed  the  thread  of  any  novel  as  they  found  it,  no 
less  implicitly  than  if  it  had  been  true  history. 

To  judge  therefore  of  Shakespeare  by  Aristotle's 
rules,  is  like  trying  a  man  by  the  laws  of  one  country, 
who  acted  under  those  of  another.  He  writ  to  the 
people;  and  writ  at  first  without  patronage  from  the 
better  sort,  and  therefore  without  aims  of  pleasing 
them;  without  assistance  or  advice  from  the  learned, 
as  without  the  advantage  of  education  or  acquaintance 
among  them;  without  that  knowledge  of  the  best 
models,  the  ancients,  to  inspire  him  with  an  emulation 
of  them;  in  a  word,  without  any  views  of  reputation, 
and  of  what  poets  are  pleased  to  call  immortality; 
some  or  all  of  which  have  encouraged  the  vanity,  or 
animated  the  ambition  of  other  writers. 

Yet  it  must  be  observed,  that  when  his  performances 
had  merited  the  protection  of  his  prince,  and  when  the 
encouragement  of  the  court  had  succeeded  to  that  of 
the  town,  the  works  of  his  riper  years  are  manifestly 
raised  above  those  of  his  former.  The  dates  of  his 
plays  sufficiently  evidence  that  his  productions  im- 
proved in  proportion  to  the  respect  he  had  for  his 
auditors.     And  I  make  no  doubt  this  observation  would 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  35 

be  found  true  in  every  instance,  were  but  editions 
extant  from  which  we  might  learn  the  exact  time  when 
every  piece  was  composed,  and  whether  writ  for  the 
town,  or  the  court. 

Another  cause  (and  no  less  strong  than  the  former) 
may  be  deduced  from  our  poet's  being  a  player,  and 
forming  himself  first  upon  the  judgment  of  that  body 
of  men  whereof  he  was  a  member.  They  have  ever  had 
a  standard  to  themselves,  upon  other  principles  than 
those  of  Aristotle.  As  they  live  by  the  majority,  they 
know  no  rule  but  that  of  pleasing  the  present  humour, 
and  complying  with  the  wit  in  fashion ;  a  consideration 
which  brings  all  their  judgment  to  a  short  point. 
Players  are  just  such  judges  of  what  is  right,  as 
tailors  are  of  what  is  graceful.  And  in  this  view  it 
will  be  but  fair  to  allow,  that  most  of  our  author's 
faults  are  less  to  be  ascribed  to  his  wrong  judgment  as 
a  poet,  than  to  his  right  judgment  as  a  player. 

By  these  men  it  would  be  thought  a  praise  to 
Shakespeare,  that  he  scarce  ever  blotted  a  line.  This 
they  industriously  propagated,  as  appears  from  what 
we  are  told  by  Ben  Jonson  in  his  "Discoveries," 
and  from  the  preface  of  Heminge  and  Condell  to  the 
First  Folio  Edition.  But  in  reality  (however  it  has 
prevailed)  there  never  was  a  more  groundless  report, 
or  to  the  contrary  of  which  there  are  more  undeniable 
evidences :  as,  the  comedy  of  "  The  Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,"  which  he  entirely  new  writ;  The  History  of 
"  Henry  the  Sixth,"  which  was  first  published  under 
the  title  of  "  The  Contention  of  York  and  Lancaster ;  " 
and  that  of  "  Henry  the  Fifth,"  extremely  improved ; 
that  of  "  Hamlet,"  enlarged  to  almost  as  much  again 
as  at  first;  and  many  others.     I  believe  the  common 


36  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

opinion  of  his  want  of  learning  proceeded  from  no 
better  ground.  This  too  might  be  thought  a  praise  by 
some;  and  to  this  his  errors  have  as  injudiciously  been 
ascribed  by  others.  For  it  is  certain,  were  it  true,  it 
could  concern  but  a  small  part  of  them;  the  most  are 
such  as  are  not  proper  defects,  but  superfoetations, 
and  arise  not  from  want  of  learning  or  reading,  but 
from  want  of  thinking  or  judging:  or  rather  (to  be 
more  just  to  our  author)  from  a  compliance  to  those 
wants  in  others.  As  to  a  wrong  choice  of  the  subject, 
a  wrong  conduct  of  the  incidents,  false  thoughts, 
forced  expressions,  &c.  if  these  are  not  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  aforesaid  accidental  reasons,  they  must  be 
charged  upon  the  poet  himself,  and  there  is  no  help 
for  it.  But  I  think  the  two  disadvantages  which  I  have 
mentioned  (to  be  obliged  to  please  the  lowest  of  the 
people,  and  to  keep  the  worst  of  company),  if  the  con- 
sideration be  extended  as  far  as  it  reasonably  may,  will 
appear  sufficient  to  mislead  and  depress  the  greatest 
genius  upon  earth.  Nay,  the  more  modesty  with 
which  such  a  one  is  endued,  the  more  he  is  in  danger  of 
submitting  and  conforming  to  others,  against  his  own 
better  judgment. 

But  as  to  his  want  of  learning,  it  may  be  necessary  to 
say  something  more:  there  is  certainly  a  vast  difference 
between  learning  and  languages.  How  far  he  was 
ignorant  of  the  latter,  I  cannot  determine;  but  it  is 
plain  he  had  much  reading  at  least,  if  they  will  not  call 
it  learning.  Nor  is  it  any  great  matter,  if  a  man  has 
knowledge,  whether  he  has  it  from  one  language  or  from 
another.  Nothing  is  more  evident  than  that  he  had  a 
taste  of  natural  philosophy,  mechanicks,  ancient  and 
modern  history,  poetical  learning,  and  mythology:  we 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  37 

find  him  very  knowing  in  the  customs,  rites,  and  man- 
ners of  antiquity.  In  "  Coriolanus,"  and  "  Julius 
Caesar,"  not  only  the  spirit,  but  manners  of  the 
Romans  are  exactly  drawn  and  still  a  nicer  distinc- 
tion is  shown  between  the  manner  of  the  Romans 
in  the  time  of  the  former,  and  of  the  latter.  His 
reading  in  the  ancient  historians  is  no  less  conspicuous, 
in  many  references  to  particular  passages:  and  the 
speeches  copied  from  Plutarch  in  "  Coriolanus "  ^ 
may,  I  think,  as  well  be  made  an  instance  of  his 
learning,  as  those  copied  from  Cicero  in  "  Cataline," 
of  Ben  Jonson's.  The  manners  of  other  nations  in 
general,  the  Egyptians,  Venetians,  French,  &c.  are 
drawn  with  equal  propriety.  Whatever  object  of 
nature,  or  branch  of  science,  he  either  speaks  of  or 
describes,  it  is  always  with  competent,  if  not  extensive 
knowledge:  his  descriptions  are  still  exact:  all  his 
metaphors  appropriate,  and  remarkably  drawn  from 
the  true  nature  and  inherent  qualities  of  each 
subject. 

When  he  treats  of  ethick  or  politick,  we  may  constantly 
observe  a  wonderful  justness  of  distinction,  as  well  as 
extent  of  comprehension.  No  one  is  more  a  master  of 
the  political  story,  or  has  more  frequent  allusions  to 
the  various  parts  of  it :  Mr.  Waller  (who  has  been  cele- 
brated for  this  last  particular)  has  not  shown  more 
learning  this  way  than  Shakespeare.  We  have  transla- 
tions from  Ovid  published  in  his  name,  among  those 
poems  which  pass  for  his,  and  for  some  of  which  we  have 

*  Shakespeare  used  the  translation  of  Sir  Thomas  North  pub- 
lished in  1579,  which  was  itself  a  translation  not  from  the 
original  but  from  a  French  version  by  Jacques  Amyot,  Bishop 
of  Auxene. 


88  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

undoubted  authority  (being  published  by  himself,  and 
dedicated  to  his  noble  patron  the  Earl  of  Southamp- 
ton) :  he  appears  also  to  have  been  conversant  in 
Plautus,  from  which  he  has  taken  the  plot  of  one  of  his 
plays  :^  he  follows  the  Greek  authors,  and  particularly 
Dares  Phrygius,^  in  another  (although  I  will  not  pre- 
tend to  say  in  what  language  he  read  them).  The 
modem  Italian  writers  of  novels  he  was  manifestly 
acquainted  with;  and  we  may  conclude  him  to  be  no 
less  conversant  with  the  ancients  of  his  own  country, 
for  the  use  he  has  made  of  Chaucer  in  "  Troilus  and 
Cressida,"  and  in  "  The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen,"  if  that 
play  be  his,  as  there  goes  a  tradition  it  was  (and  indeed 
it  has  little  resemblance  of  Fletcher,  and  more  of  our 
author  than  some  of  those  which  have  been  received  as 
genuine). 

i  I  am  inclined  to  think  this  opinion  proceeded  origi- 
nally from  the  zeal  of  the  partizans  of  our  author  and 
Ben  Jonson:  as  they  endeavoured  to  exalt  the  one 
at  the  expense  of  the  other.  It  is  ever  the  nature  of 
parties  to  be  in  extremes ;  and  nothing  is  so  probable, 
as  that,  because  Ben  Jonson  had  much  the  more 
learning,  it  was  said,  on  the  one  hand  that  Shakespeare 
had  none  at  all ;  and  because  Shakespeare  had  much  the 
most  wit  and  fancy,  it  was  retorted  on  the  other,  that 
Jonson  wanted  both.  Because  Shakespeare  borrowed 
nothing,  it  was  said  that  Ben  Jonson  borrowed 
everything.  Because  Jonson  did  not  write  extempore, 
he  was  reproached  with  being  a  year  about  every  piece ; 
and  because  Shakespeare  wrote  with  ease  and  rapidity, 

*  "  The  Comedy  of  Errors,"  for  which  the  "  Menaechmi "  and  the 
"  Amphitruo  '*  of  Plautus  are  considered  as  foundation  plays. 
•"Troilus  and  Cressida." 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  39 

they  cried,  he  never  once  made  a  blot.  Nay,  the  spirit 
of  opposition  ran  so  high,  that  whatsoever  those  of  the 
one  side  objected  to  the  other,  was  taken  at  the  rebound, 
and  turned  Into  praises ;  as  injudiciously,  as  their  antag- 
onists before  had  made  them  objections. 

Poets  are  always  afraid  of  envy;  but  sure  they  have 
as  much  reason  to  be  afraid  of  admiration.  They  are 
the  Scylla  and  Charybdis  of  authors ;  those  who  escape 
one,  often  fall  by  the  other.  Pessimum  genus  i/nimi- 
corum  ImidanteSy  says  Tacitus:  and  Virgil  desires  to 
wear  a  charm  against  those  who  praise  a  poet  without 
rule  or  reason: 

" .    «    .    Si  ultra  placitum  laudarit  haccare  frontenu 
Cingite,  ne  vati  noceat.    .    .    ." 

But  however  this  contention  might  be  carried  on  by  the 
partlzans  on  either  side,  I  cannot  help  thinking  these 
two  great  poets  were  good  friends,  and  lived  on  amica- 
ble terms,  and  in  offices  of  society  with  each  other.  It 
is  an  acknowledged  fact  that  Ben  Jonson  was  in- 
troduced upon  the  stage,  and  his  first  work  encour- 
aged, by  Shakespeare ;  and  after  his  death,  that  author 
writes,  To  the  memory  of  his  beloved  William  Shake- 
speare which  shews  as  if  the  relationship  had  continued 
through  life.  I  cannot,  for  my  own  part,  find  anything 
invidious  or  sparing  In  those  verses,  but  wonder  Mr. 
Dryden  was  of  that  opinion.  He  exalts  him  not  only 
above  all  his  contemporaries,  but  above  Chaucer  and 
Spenser,  whom  he  will  not  allow  to  be  great  enough  to 
be  ranked  with  him,  and  challenges  the  names  of 
Sophocles,  Euripides,  and  ^schylus,  nay  all  Greece  and 
Rome  at  once,  to  equal  him;  and  (which  is  very  par- 
ticular) expressly  vindicates  him  from  the  imputation 


40  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

of  wanting  art,  not  enduring  that  all  his  excellences 
should  be  attributed  to  nature.  It  is  remarkable,  too, 
that  the  praise  he  gives  him  in  his  *'  Discoveries  "  seems 
to  proceed  from  a  personal  kindness ;  he  tells  us,  that  he 
loved  the  man,  as  well  as  honoured  his  memory;  cele- 
brates the  honesty,  openness,  and  frankness  of  his 
temper ;  and  only  distinguishes,  as  he  reasonably  ought, 
between  the  real  merit  of  the  author,  and  the  silly  and 
derogatory  applauses  of  the  players.  Ben  Jonson 
might  indeed  be  sparing  in  his  commendations  (though 
certainly  he  is  not  so  in  this  instance),  partly  from 
his  own  nature,  and  partly  from  judgment.  For 
men  of  judgment  think  they  do  any  man  more  service 
in  praising  him  justly,  than  lavishly.  I  say,  I  would 
fain  believe  they  were  friends  though  the  violence  and 
ill-breeding  of  their  followers  and  flatterers,  were 
enough  to  give  rise  to  the  contrary  report.  I  hope  that 
it  may  be  with  parties  both  in  wit  and  state,  as  with 
those  monsters  described  by  the  poets;  and  that  their 
heads  at  least  may  have  something  human,  though 
their  bodies  and  tails  are  wild  beasts  and  serpents. 

As  I  believe  that  what  I  have  mentioned  gave  rise  to 
the  opinion  of  Shakespeare's  want  of  learning ;  so  what 
has  continued  it  down  to  us  may  have  been  the  many 
blunders  and  illiteracies  of  the  first  publishers  of  his 
works.  In  these  editions  their  ignorance  shines  almost 
in  every  page;  nothing  is  more  common  than  actus 
tertia.     Exit  omnes.     Enter  three  Witches  solus.^ 

Their  French  is  as  bad  as  their  Latin,  both  in  con- 

*This  blunder  appears  to  be  of  Mr.  Pope's  own  invention.  It  is 
not  to  be  found  in  any  one  of  the  four  Folio  copies  of  "  Macbeth  "; 
and  there  is  no  Quarto  edition  of  it  extant. — Note  by  Geo, 
Steevens. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  41 

struction  and  spelling:  their  very  Welsh  is  false. 
Nothing  is  more  likely  than  that  those  palpable  blunders 
of  Hector'' s  quoting  Aristotle,  with  others  of  that  gross 
kind,  sprung  from  the  same  root:  it  not  being  at  all 
credible  that  these  could  be  the  errors  of  any  man  who 
had  the  least  tincture  of  a  school,  or  the  least  conversa- 
tion with  such  as  had.  Ben  Jonson  (whom  they  will 
not  think  partial  to  him)  allows  him  at  least  to  have 
had  some  Latin;  which  is  utterly  inconsistent  with 
mistakes  like  these.  Nay,  the  constant  blunders  in 
proper  names  of  persons  and  places  are  such  as  must 
have  proceeded  from  a  man,  who  had  not  so  much  as 
read  any  history  in  any  language:  so  could  not  be 
Shakespeare's. 

I  shall  now  lay  before  the  reader  some  of  those  almost 
innumerable  errors,  which  have  arisen  from  one  source, 
the  ignorance  of  the  players,  both  as  his  actors,  and 
as  his  editors. 

When  the  nature  and  kinds  of  these  are  enumerated 
and  considered,  I  dare  to  say  that  not  Shakespeare  only, 
but  Aristotle  or  Cicero,  had  their  works  undergone  the 
same  fate,  might  have  appeared  to  want  sense  as  well 
a    learning. 

It  is  not  certain  that  any  one  of  his  plays  was  pub- 
lished by  himself.  During  the  time  of  his  employment 
in  the  theatres,  several  of  his  pieces  were  printed  sep- 
arately in  Quarto.  What  makes  me  think  that  most  of 
these  were  not  published  by  him,  is  the  excessive  care- 
lessness of  the  press :  every  page  is  so  scandalously 
false  spelled,  and  almost  all  the  learned  or  unusual 
words  so  intolerably  mangled,  that  it  is  plain  there 
either  was  no  corrector  to  the  press  at  all,  or  one  totally 
illiterate.     If  any  were  supervised  by  himself,  I  should 


42  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

fancy  the  two  parts  of  "  Henry  the  Fourth,"  and 
"  Midsummer-Night's  Dream,"  might  have  been  so, 
because  I  find  no  other  printed  with  any  exactness ;  and 
(contrary  to  the  rest)  there  is  very  Httle  variation  in 
all  the  subsequent  editions  of  them.  There  are  extant 
two  prefaces  to  the  first  Quarto  edition  of  "Troilus 
and  Cressida,"  in  1609,  and  to  that  of  "  Othello  " ;  by 
which  it  appears,  that  the  first  was  published  without 
his  knowledge  or  consent,  and  even  before  it  was  acted, 
so  late  as  seven  or  eight  years  before  he  died:  and  that 
the  latter  was  not  printed  till  after  his  death.  The 
whole  number  of  genuine  plays,  which  we  have  been 
able  to  find  printed  in  his  lifetime,  amounts  but  to 
eleven.  And  of  some  of  these  we  meet  with  two  or  more 
editions  by  different  printers,  each  of  which  has  whole 
heaps  of  trash  different  from  the  other :  which  I  should 
fancy  was  occasioned  by  their  being  taken  from  dif- 
ferent copies  belonging  to  different  play-houses. 

The  Folio  edition  (in  which  all  the  plays  we  now 
receive  as  his,  were  first  collected)  was  published  by  two 
players,  Heminge  and  Condell,  in  1623,  seven  years 
after  his  decease.  They  declare,  that  all  the  other 
editions  were  stolen  and  surreptitious,  and  affirm  theirs 
to  be  purged  from  the  errors  of  the  former.  This  is 
true  as  to  the  literal  errors,  and  no  other;  for  In  all 
respect  else  it  is  far  worse  than  the  Quartos. 

First,  because  the  additions  of  trifling  and  bombast 
passages  are  in  this  edition  far  more  numerous.  For 
whatever  had  been  added,  since  those  Quartos,  by  the 
actors,  or  had  stolen  from  their  mouths  into  the  written 
parts,  were  from  thence  conveyed  into  the  printed  text, 
and  all  stand  charged  upon  the  author.  He  himself 
complained  of  this  usage  in  "  Hamlet,"  where  he  wishes 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  43 

that  those  who  plaj  the  clowns  would  speak  no  more 
than  Is  set  down  for  them.  ^  But  as  a  proof  that  he 
could  not  escape  it,  in  the  old  editions  of  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet,"  there  is  no  hint  of  a  great  number  of  the  mean 
conceits  and  ribaldries  now  to  be  found  there.  In 
others,  the  low  scenes  of  mobs,  plebeians,  and  clowns, 
are  vastly  shorter  than  at  present :  and  I  have  seen  one 
in  particular  (which  seems  to  have  belonged  to  the 
play-house,  by  having  the  parts  divided  with  lines,  and 
the  actors'  names  in  the  margin)  where  several  of  those 
very  passages  were  added  in  a  written  hand,  which  are 
since  to  be  found  in  the  Folio. 

In  the  next  place,  a  number  of  beautiful  passages, 
which  are  extant  in  the  first  single  editions,  are  omitted 
in  this;  as  it  seems,  without  any  other  reason,  than 
their  willingness  to  shorten  some  scenes:  these  men  (as 
it  was  said  of  Procrustes)  either  lopping,  or  stretching 
an  author,  to  make  him  just  fit  for  their  stage. 

This  edition  is  said  to  be  printed  from  the  original 
copies ;  I  believe  they  meant  those  which  had  lain  ever 
since  the  author's  days  in  the  play-house,  and  had  from 
time  to  time,  been  cut,  or  added  to,  arbitrarily.  It 
appears  that  this  edition,  as  well  as  the  Quartos,  was 
printed  (at  least  partly)  from  no  better  copies  than  the 
prompter's  book,  or  piece-meal  parts  written  out  for  the 
use  of  the  actors:  for  in  some  places  their  very  names 
are,  through  carelessness,  set  down  instead  of  the 
personcB  dramatis;  ^  and  in  others  the  notes  of  direction 
to  the  property-men  for  their  movables,   and  to  the 

»Act  III.  4. 

•"Much  Ado  About  Nothing."  Act  II.  3,  Jacke  Wilson  for 
Balthazar.  Act  IV.,  Andrew  Cowley  and  Kempe  for  Dogberry 
and  Verges.  "III.  Henry  VI.,"  Act  III.,  "Enter  Siliklo  and 
Humphrey  with  cross  bowes  in  their  hands,"  etc 


44.  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

players  for  their  entries,  are  inserted  into  the  text 
through  the  ignorance  of  the  transcribers. 

The  plays  not  having  been  before  so  much  as  dis- 
tinguished by  Acts  and  Scenes,  they  are  in  this  edition 
divided  according  as  they  played  them;  often  when 
there  is  no  pause  in  the  action,  or  where  they  thought 
fit  to  make  a  breach  in  it,  for  the  sake  of  musick, 
masques,  or  monsters. 

Sometimes  the  scenes  are  transposed  and  shuffled  back- 
ward and  forward;  a  thing  which  could  not  otherwise 
happen,  but  by  their  being  taken  from  separate  and 
piece-meal  written  parts. 

Many  verses  are  omitted  entirely,  and  others  trans- 
posed: from  whence  invincible  obscurities  have  arisen, 
past  the  guess  of  any  commentator  to  clear  up,  but 
just  where  the  accidental  glimpse  of  an  old  edition 
enlightens  us. 

Some  characters  were  confounded  and  mixed,  or  two 
put  into  one,  for  want  of  a  competent  number  of  actors. 
Thus  in  the  Quarto  edition  of  "  Midsummer-Night's 
Dream,"  Act  V.,  Shakespeare  introduces  a  kind  of 
master  of  the  revels  called  Philostrate;  all  whose  part 
is  given  to  another  character  (that  of  Egeus)  in  the 
subsequent  editions :  so  also  in  "  Hamlet  "  and  "  King 
Lear."  This  too,  makes  it  probable  that  the  prompter's 
books  were  what  they  called  the  original  copies. 

From  liberties  of  this  kind,  many  speeches  also  were 
put  into  the  mouths  of  wrong  persons,  where  the  author 
now  seems  chargeable  with  making  them  speak  out  of 
character:  or,  sometimes,  perhaps,  for  no  better  reason 
than  that  a  governing  player,  to  have  the  mouthing  of 
some  favourite  speech  himself,  would  snatch  it  from  the 
unworthy  lips  of  an  underling. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  46 

Prose  from  verse  they  did  not  know,  and  they  accord- 
ingly printed  one  for  the  other  throughout  the  volume. 

Having  been  forced  to  say  so  much  of  the  players,  I 
think  I  ought  in  justice  to  remark,  that  the  judgment, 
as  well  as  condition,  of  that  class  of  people,  was  then 
far  inferior  to  what  it  is  in  our  days.  As  then  the  best 
play-houses  were  inns  and  taverns  (the  Globe,  the 
Hope,  the  Red-Bull,  the  Fortune,  &c.),  so  the  top  of 
the  profession  were  then  mere  players,  not  gentlemen  of 
the  stage :  they  were  led  into  the  buttery^  by  the  steward, 
not  placed  at  the  lord's  table,  or  lady's  toilette;  and 
consequently  were  entirely  deprived  of  those  advan- 
tages they  now  enjoy  in  the  familiar  conversation  of 
our  nobility,  and  an  intimacy  (not  to  say  dearness)  with 
people  of  the  first  condition. 

From  what  has  been  said,  there  can  be  no  question 
but  had  Shakespeare  published  his  works  himself 
(especially  in  his  latter  time,  and  after  his  retreat  from 
the  stage),  we  should  not  only  be  certain  which  are 
genuine,  but  should  find,  in  those  that  are,  the  errors 
lessened  by  some  thousands.  If  I  may  judge  from  all 
the  distinguishing  marks  of  his  style,  and  his  manner 
of  thinking  and  writing,  I  make  no  doubt  to  declare 
that  those  wretched  plays,  "  Pericles,"  "  Locrine,"  "  Sir 
John  Oldcastle,"  "Yorkshire  Tragedy,"  "Lord  Crom- 
well," "  The  Puritan,"  and  "  London  Prodigal,"  and  a 
thing  called  "The  Double  Falsehood,"  cannot  be  ad- 
mitted as  his.  ®  And  I  should  conjecture  of  some  of  the 
others    (particularly   'Love's   Labour's    Lost,"    "The 

'  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew." — Induction,  »c.  1. 

•All  of  these  plays  except  "The  Double  Falsehood"  are  pub- 
Kshed  in  the  Third  Folio  (1664)  as  Shakespeare's.  "Pericles"  is 
the  only  one  included  in  modern  editions. 


46  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Winter's  Tale,"  "  Comedy  of  Errors,"  and  "  Titus  An- 
dronicus  ")  that  only  some  characters,  single  scenes, 
or  perhaps  a  few  particular  passages,  were  of  his  hand. 
It  is  very  probable  what  occasioned  some  plays  to  be 
supposed  Shakespeare's  was  only  this;  that  they  were 
pieces  produced  by  unknown  authors,  or  fitted  up  for 
the  theatre  while  it  was  under  his  administration;  and 
no  owner  claiming  them,  they  were  adjudged  to  him,  as 
they  give  strays  to  the  lord  of  the  manor:  a  mistake 
which  (one  may  also  observe)  it  was  not  for  the  interest 
of  the  house  to  remove.  Yet  the  players  themselves, 
Heminge  and  Condell,  afterwards  did  Shakespeare  the 
justice  to  reject  these  eight  plays  in  their  edition; 
though  they  were  then  printed  in  his  name,  in  every- 
body's hands  and  acted  with  some  applause  (as  we  learn 
from  what  Ben  Jonson  says  of  "  Pericles  "  in  his  ode 
on  the  New-Inn).  That  "  Titus  Andronicus  "  is  one  of 
this  class,  I  am  the  rather  induced  to  believe,  by  finding 
the  same  author  openly  express  his  contempt  of  it  in 
the  induction  to  "  Bartholomew-Fair,"  in  the  year  1614, 
when  Shakespeare  was  yet  living.  And  there  is  no  better 
authority  for  these  latter  sort,  than  for  the  former, 
which  were  equally  published  in  his  lifetime. 

If  we  give  in  to  this  opinion,  how  many  low  and 
vicious  parts  and  passages  might  no  longer  reflect  upon 
this  great  genius,  but  appear  unworthily  charged  upon 
him.?  And  even  in  those  which  are  really  his,  how  many 
faults  may  have  been  unjustly  laid  to  his  account 
from  arbitrary  additions,  expunctions,  transposi- 
tions of  scenes  and  lines,  confusion  of  characters  and 
persons,  wrong  application  of  speeches,  corruptions 
of  innumerable  passages  by  the  ignorance  and  wrong 
corrections  of  them  again  by  the  impertinence  of  his 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  47 

first  editors?  From  one  or  other  of  these  considera- 
tions, I  am  verily  persuaded  that  the  greatest  and  the 
grossest  part  of  what  are  thought  his  errors  would 
vanish,  and  leave  his  character  in  a  light  very  different 
from  that  disadvantageous  one  in  which  it  now  appears 
to  us. 

This  is  the  state  in  which  Shakespeare's  writings  lie 
at  present ;  for,  since  the  above-mentioned  Folio  edition, 
all  the  rest  have  implicitly  followed  it,  without  having 
recourse  to  any  of  the  former,  or  ever  making  the  com- 
parison between  them.  It  is  impossible  to  repair  the 
injuries  already  done  him;  too  much  time  has  elapsed, 
and  the  materials  are  too  few.  In  what  I  have  done, 
I  have  rather  given  a  proof  of  my  willingness  and  de- 
sire, than  of  my  ability,  to  do  him  justice.  I  have  dis- 
charged the  dull  duty  of  an  editor,  to  my  best  judg- 
ment, with  more  labour  than  I  expect  thanks,  with  a 
religious  abhorrence  of  all  innovation,  and  without  any 
indulgence  to  my  private  sense  or  conjecture.  The 
method  taken  in  this  edition  will  shew  itself.  The 
various  readings  are  fairly  put  in  the  margin,  so  that 
every  one  may  compare  them;  and*  those  I  have  pre- 
ferred into  the  text  are  constantly  ex  fide  codicum, 
upon  authority.  The  alterations  or  additions  which 
Shakespeare  himself  made  are  taken  notice  of  as  they 
occur.  Some  suspected  passages,  which  are  excessively 
bad  (and  which  seem  interpolations,  by  being  so  in- 
serted that  one  can  entirely  omit  them  without  any  chasm 
or  deficience  in  the  context),  are  degraded  to  the  bottom 
of  the  page,  with  an  asterisk  referring  to  the  places 
of  their  insertion.  The  scenes  are  marked  so  distinctly 
that  every  removal  of  place  is  specified;  which  is  more 
necessary  in  this  author  than  any  other,  since  he  shifts 


48  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

them  more  frequently;  and  sometimes,  without  attend- 
ing to  this  particular,  the  reader  would  have  met  with 
obscurities.  The  more  obsolete  or  unusual  words  are 
explained.  Some  of  the  most  shining  passages  are 
distinguished  by  commas  in  the  margin;  and  where  the 
beauty  lay  not  in  particulars  but  in  the  whole,  a  star 
is  prefixed  to  the  scene.  This  seems  to  me  a  shorter 
and  less  ostentatious  method  of  performing  the  better 
half  of  criticism  (namely  the  pointing  out  an  author's 
excellencies)  than  to  fill  a  whole  paper  with  citations 
of  fine  passages,  with  general  applauses,  or  empty 
exclamations  at  the  tail  of  them.  There  is  also  sub- 
joined a  catalogue  of  those  first  editions,  by  which  the 
greater  part  of  the  various  readings  and  of  the  cor- 
rected passages  are  authorised  (most  of  which  are  such 
as  carry  their  own  evidences  along  with  them).  These 
editions^  now  hold  the  place  of  originals,  and  are  the 
only  materials  left  to  repair  the  deficiencies,  or  restore 
the  corrupted  sense  of  the  author.  I  can  only  wish 
that  a  greater  number  of  them  (if  a  greater  were  ever 
published)  may  yet  be  found,  by  a  search  more  suc- 
cessfufl  than  mine,  for  the  better  accompHshment  of  this 
end. 

I  will  conclude  by  saying  of  Shakespeare,  that  with  all 
his  faults,  and  with  all  the  irregularity  of  his  drama, 
one  may  look  upon  his  works,  in  comparison  with  those 
that  are  more  finished  and  regular,  as  upon  an  ancient 
majestic  piece  of  Gothic  architecture  compared  with  a 
neat  modern  building:  the  latter  is  more  elegant  and 
glaring,  but  the  former  is  more  strong  and  more  solemn. 
It  must  be  allowed  that  in  one  of  these  there  are  mate- 
rials enough  to  make  many  of  the  other.  It  has  much 
"  The  reference  is  to  the  Quarto  copies  of  single  plays. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  49 

the  greater  variety,  and  much  the  nobler  apartments, 
though  we  are  often  conducted  to  them  by  dark,  odd, 
and  uncouth  passages.  Nor  does  the  whole  fail  to 
strike  us  with  greater  reverence,  though  many  of  the 
parts  are  childish,  ill-placed,  and  unequal  to  its 
grandeur. 


60  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 


LEWIS    THEOBALD 

1688-1744 

IEWIS  THEOBALD  was  born  April,  1688, 
and  died  September,  1744,  exactly  contem- 
j  porary  with  Pope.  He  was  educated  in  an 
"^  attorney's  office,  but  chose  literature  as  a 
profession.  His  first  literary  work  was  the  translation 
of  various  Greek  plays.  He  became  a  dramatist  of 
very  ordinary  ability.  His  name  holds  its  place  in 
English  literature  because  of  his  critical  work  in 
Shakespeare's  plays.  He  reviewed  Pope's  edition 
(in  1726)  under  the  title  of  "  Shakespeare  restored, 
or  Specimens  of  the  many  errors  as  well  Com- 
mitted as  Unamended  by  Mr.  Pope  in  his  edition  of  this 
Poet,  designed  not  only  to  correct  the  same  edition,  but 
to  restore  the  true  reading  of  Shakespeare  in  all  the 
editions  ever  yet  published." 

Pope  bitterly  denounced  Theobald  for  this  "  imper- 
tinence," and  pilloried  him  in  the  "  Dunciad."  Theo- 
bald, with  many  faults,  was  a  real  critic,  and  his  edition 
of  the  plays  in  seven  volumes  (1733)  took  the  place  of 
Pope's  among  students,  as  the  latter  had  superseded 
Rowe's. 

Theobald  was  unfortunate  both  in  his  financial  aiFairs 
and  his  intellectual  ambitions.  He  just  failed  of  the 
Poet  Laureateship  in  1732,  and  passed  most  of  his 
life  in  poverty.  At  the  time  of  his  death  he  was  en- 
gaged in  editing  the  collected  works  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  61 

In  Hogarth's  plate  of  "The  Distressed  Poet,"  the 
artist  is  supposed  to  have  been  inspired  by  the  wretched 
fortunes  of  poor  Theobald.  George  Steevens  sug- 
gested that  the  picture  was  a  satire  upon  the  poet's 
reward. 

The  poet  in  the  caricature  is  the  only  suggestion  of  a 
portrait  of  Theobald  extant. 

LEWIS  THEOBALD'S  PREFACE 

[To  his  second  edition  of  Shakespeare's  Works  published  1740, 
abridged  from  the  first  edition  of  1733.] 

The  attempt  to  write  upon  Shakespeare  is  like  going 
into  a  large,  a  spacious,  and  a  splendid  dome,  through 
the  conveyance  of  a  narrow  and  obscure  entry.  A 
glare  of  light  suddenly  breaks  upon  you,  beyond  what 
the  avenue  at  first  promised,  and  a  thousand  beauties  of 
genius  and  character,  like  so  many  gaudy  apartments 
pouring  at  once  upon  the  eye,  diffuse  and  throw  them- 
selves out  to  the  mind.  The  prospect  is  too  wide  to 
come  within  the  compass  of  a  single  view;  it  is  4  gay 
confusion  of  pleasing  objects,  too  various  to  be  enjoyed 
but  in  a  general  admiration,  and  they  must  be  separated 
and  eyed  distinctly  in  order  to  give  the  proper  enter- 
tainment. 

And  as,  in  great  piles  of  building,  some  parts  are 
often  furnished  up  to  hit  the  taste  of  the  connoisseur; 
others  more  negligently  put  together,  to  strike  the 
fancy  of  a  common  and  unlearned  beholder ;  some  parts 
are  made  stupendously  magnificent  and  grand,  to  sur- 
prise with  the  vast  design  and  execution  of  the  archi- 
tect ;  others  are  contracted,  to  amuse  you  with  his  neat- 
ness and  elegance  in  little;  so,  in  Shakespeare,  we  may 


52  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

find  traits  that  will  stand  the  test  of  the  severest  judg- 
ment; and  strokes  as  carelessly  hit  off,  to  the  level  of 
the  more  ordinary  capacities;  some  descriptions  raised 
to  that  pitch  of  grandeur,  as  to  astonish  you  with  the 
compass  and  elevation  of  his  thought ;  and  others  copy- 
ing nature  within  so  narrow,  so  confined  a  circle,  as  if 
the  author's  talent  lay  only  at  drawing  in  miniature. 

In  how  many  points  of  light  must  we  be  obliged  to 
gaze  at  this  great  poet!  In  how  many  branches  of 
excellence  to  consider  and  admire  him!  Whether  we 
view  him  on  the  side  of  art  or  nature,  he  ought  equally 
to  engage  our  attention:  whether  we  respect  the  force 
and  greatness  of  his  genius,  the  extent  of  his  knowledge 
and  reading,  the  power  and  address  with  which  he  throws 
out  and  applies  either  nature  or  learning,  there  is  ample 
scope  both  for  our  wonder  and  pleasure.  If  his  diction, 
and  the  clothing  of  his  thoughts  attract  us,  how  much 
more  must  we  be  charmed  with  the  richness  and  variety 
of  his  images  and  ideas !  If  his  images  and  ideas  steal 
into  our  souls,  and  strike  upon  our  fancy,  how  much 
are  they  improved  in  price  when  we  come  to  reflect  with 
what  propriety  and  justness  they  are  applied  to  char- 
acter! If  we  look  into  his  characters,  and  how  they 
are  furnished  and  proportioned  to  the  employment  he 
cuts  out  for  them,  how  are  we  taken  up  with  the  mastery 
of  his  portraits!  What  draughts  of  nature!  What 
variety  of  originals,  and  how  different  each  from  the 
other!  How  are  they  dressed  from  the  stores  of  his 
own  luxurious  imagination,  without  being  the  apes  of 
mode,  or  borrowing  from  any  foreign  wardrobe !  Each 
of  them  are  the  standards  of  fashion  for  themselves: 
like  gentlemen  that  are  above  the  direction  of  their  tail- 
ors, and  can  adorn  themselves  without  the  aid  of  iraita- 


THE    DISTREST   POET" 


By  Hogarth 


"It  was  suggested  by  George  Steevens  (q.v.)  that  Hogarth's  plate,  'The  Distressed  Poet,'  as 
first  published  on  3  March,  1736,  was  intended  as  a  satire  on  the  much  abused  Theobald.  The 
composition  was  doubtless  inspired  by  Pope's  vivid  picture  of  the  dance-laureate-elect  brooding 
over  his  sunken  fortunes."— Z>ic<iOAiary  of  National  Biography. 


I. a      ^''  THE 

OF 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  63 

tion.  If  other  poets  draw  more  than  one  fool  or  cox- 
comb, there  is  the  same  resemblance  in  them  as  in  that 
painter's  draughts  who  was  happy  only  at  forming  a 
rose;  you  find  them  all  younger  brothers  of  the  same 
family,  and  all  of  them  have  a  pretence  to  give  the  same 
crest:  but  Shakespeare's  clowns  and  fops  come  all  of  a 
different  house;  they  are  no  farther  allied  to  one  an- 
other than  as  man  to  man,  members  of  the  same  species, 
but  as  different  in  features  and  lineaments  of  character 
as  we  are  from  one  another  in  face  or  complexion. 
But  I  am  unawares  launching  into  his  character  as  a 
writer,  before  I  have  said  what  I  intended  of  him  as  a 
private  member  of  the  republic. 

Mr.  Rowe  has  very  justly  observed,  that  people  are 
fond  of  discovering  any  little  personal  story  of  the  great 
men  of  antiquity,  and  that  the  common  accidents  of 
their  lives  naturally  become  the  subject  of  our  critical 
enquiries:  that  however  trifling  such  a  curiosity  at  the 
first  view  may  appear,  yet,  as  for  what  relates  to  men 
and  letters,  the  knowledge  of  an  author  may,  perhaps, 
sometimes  conduce  to  the  better  understanding  his  works ; 
and,  indeed,  this  author's  works,  from  the  bad  treat- 
ment he  has  met  with  from  copyists  and  editors,  have  so 
long  wanted  a  comment,  that  one  would  zealously  em- 
brace every  method  of  information  that  could  con- 
tribute to  recover  them  from  the  injuries  with  which 
they  have  so  long  lain  overwhelmed. 

'Tis  certain  that  if  we  have  first  admired  the  man  in 
his  writings,  his  case  is  so  circumstanced  that  we  must 
naturally  admire  the  writings  in  the  man :  that  if  we  go 
back  to  take  a  view  of  his  education,  and  the  employ- 
ment in  life  which  fortune  had  cut  out  for  him,  we  shall 
retain  the  strongest  ideas  of  his  extensive  genius. 


54  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

His  father,  we  are  told,  was  a  considerable  dealer  in 
wool ;  but  having  no  fewer  than  ten  children,  of  whom  our 
Shakespeare  was  the  eldest,  the  best  education  he  could 
afford  him  was  no  better  than  to  qualify  him  for  his 
own  business  and  employment.  I  cannot  affirm  with 
any  certainty  how  long  his  father  lived,  but  I  take  him 
to  be  the  same  Mr.  John  Shakespeare  who  was  living  in 
the  year  1599,  and  who  then,  in  honour  of  his  son, 
took  out  an  extract  of  his  family  arms  from  the 
herald's  office,  by  which  it  appears  that  he  had  been 
officer  and  bailiff  of  Stratford-upon-Avon,  in  Warwick- 
shire, and  that  he  enjoyed  some  hereditary  lands  and 
tenements,  the  reward  of  his  great-grandfather's  faith- 
ful and  approved  service  to  King  Henry  VII. 

Be  this  as  it  will,  our  Shakespeare,  it  seems,  was  bred 
for  some  time  at  a  free-school — the  very  free-school,  I 
presume,  founded  at  Stratford — ^where,  we  are  told,  he 
acquired  what  Latin  he  was  master  of;  but  that  his 
father  being  obliged,  through  narrowness  of  circum- 
stances, to  withdraw  him  too  soon  from  thence,  he  was 
thereby  unhappily  prevented  from  making  any  pro- 
ficiency in  the  dead  languages:  a  point  that  will 
deserve  some  little  discussion  in  the  sequel  of  this 
dissertation. 

How  long  he  continued  in  his  father's  way  of  business, 
either  as  an  assistant  to  him,  or  on  his  own  proper 
account,  no  notices  are  left  to  inform  us,  nor  have  I 
been  able  to  learn  precisely  at  what  period  of  life  he 
quitted  his  native  Stratford,  and  began  his  acquaint- 
ance with  London  and  the  stage. 

In  order  to  settle  in  the  world  after  a  family  manner, 
he  thought  fit,  Mr.  Rowe  acquaints  us,  to  marry  while 
he  was  yet  very  young.     It  is  certain  he  did  so,  for  by 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  55 

the  monument  in  Stratford  church,  erected  to  the  mem- 
ory of  his  daughter  Susanna,  the  wife  of  John  Hall, 
gentleman,  it  appears  that  she  died  on  the  2d  of  July, 
in  the  year  1649,  aged  66.  So  that  she  was  bom  in 
1583,  when  her  father  could  not  be  full  19  years  old; 
who  was  himself  bom  in  the  year  1564.  Nor  was  she 
his  eldest  child,^  for  he  had  another  daughter,  Judith, 
who  was  born  before  her,  and  who  was  married  to  one 
Mr.  Thomas  Quiney.  So  that  Shakespeare  must  have 
entered  into  wedlock  by  that  time  he  was  turned  of 
seventeen  years. 

Whether  the  force  of  inclination  merely,  or  some  con- 
curring circumstances  of  convenience  in  the  match, 
prompted  him  to  marry  so  early,  is  not  easy  to  be  deter-  • 
mined  at  this  distance ;  but  it  is  probable  a  view  of  inter- 
est might  sway  his  conduct  in  this  point,  for  he  married 
the  daughter  of  one  Hathaway,  a  substantial  yeoman 
in  his  neighbourhood,  and  she  had  the  start  of  him  in 
age  no  less  than  eight  years.  She  survived  him  not- 
withstanding seven  seasons,  and  died  that  very  year  the 
players  published  the  first  edition  of  his  works  in  Folio, 
anno  Dom.,  1623,  at  the  age  of  67  years,  as  we  likewise 
learn  from  her  monument  in  Stratford  church. 

How  long  he  continued  in  this  kind  of  settlement,  upon 
his  own  native  spot,  is  not  more  easily  to  be  determined. 
But  if  the  tradition  be  true,  of  that  extravagance  which 
forced  him  both  to  quit  his  country  and  way  of  living, 
to  wit,  his  being  engaged  with  a  knot  of  young  deer- 
stealers,  to  rob  the  park  of  Sir  Thomas  Lucy,  of 
Cherlecot,  near  Stratford,  the  enterprise  savours  so 
much  of  youth  and  levity,  we  may  reasonably  suppose  it 

*  A  mistake.  According  to  the  parish  register  Susannah  was  the 
oldest,  having  been  baptised  May  26,  1583;  Judith,  Feb.  2,  1585. 


&e  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

was  before  he  could  write  full  man.  Besides,  consider- 
ing he  has  left  us  six-and-thirty  plays  at  least,  avowed 
to  be  genuine;  and  considering  too  that  he  had  retired 
from  the  stage  to  spend  the  latter  part  of  his  days  at 
his  own  native  Stratford,  the  interval  of  time  neces- 
sarily required  for  the  finishing  so  many  dramatick 
pieces  obliges  us  to  suppose  he  threw  himself  very  early 
upon  the  play-house.  And  as  he  could,  probably,  con- 
tract no  acquaintance  with  the  drama  while  he  was 
driving  on  the  affair  of  wool  at  home,  some  time  must 
be  lost,  even  after  he  had  commenced  player,  before  he 
could  attain  knowledge  enough  of  the  science  to  qualify 
himself  for  turning  author. 

It  has  been  observed  by  Mr.  Rowe  that  amongst  other 
extravagancies  which  our  author  has  given  to  his  Sir 
John  Falstaff  in  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  he 
has  made  him  a  deer-stealer ;  and,  that  he  might  at  the 
same  time  remember  his  Warwickshire  prosecutor,  under 
the  name  of  Justice  Shallow,  he  has  given  him  very  near 
the  same  coat  of  arms  which  Dugdale,  in  his  "  Antiqui- 
ties "  of  that  county,  describes  for  a  family  there. 
There  are  two  coats,  I  observe,  in  Dugdale,  where  three 
silver  fishes  are  borne  in  the  name  of  Lucy ;  and  another 
coat,  to  the  monument  of  Thomas  Lucy,  son  of  Sir 
William  Lucy,  in  which  are  quartered,  in  four  several 
divisions,  twelve  little  fishes,  three  in  each  division,  prob- 
ably Luces.  This  very  coat,  indeed,  seems  alluded  to 
in  Shallow's  giving  the  dozen  white  Luces,  and  in  Slen- 
der saying  he  may  quarter.  When  I  consider  the  ex- 
ceeding candour  and  good  nature  of  our  author  (which 
inclined  all  the  gentler  part  of  the  world  to  love  him, 
as  the  power  of  his  wit  obliged  the  men  of  the  most  deli- 
cate knowledge  and  polite  learning  to  admire  him),  and 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  57 

that  he  should  throw  this  humorous  piece  of  satire  at 
his  prosecutor  at  least  twenty  years  after  the  provoca- 
tion given,  I  am  confidently  persuaded  it  must  be  owing 
to  an  unforgiving  rancour  on  the  prosecutor's  side ;  and 
if  this  was  the  case,  it  were  pity  but  the  disgrace  of  such 
an  inveteracy  should  remain  as  a  lasting  reproach,  and 
Shallow  stand  as  a  mark  of  ridicule  to  stigmatise  his 
malice. 

It  is  said  our  author  spent  some  years  before  his  death 
in  ease,  retirement,  and  the  conversation  of  his  friends, 
at  his  native  Stratford.  I  could  never  pick  up  any 
certain  intelligence  when  he  relinquished  the  stage.  I 
know  it  has  been  mistakenly  thought  by  some  that  Spen- 
ser's Thalia,  in  his  "  Tears  of  the  Muses,"  where  she 
laments  the  loss  of  her  Willi/,  in  the  comic  scene,  has 
been  applied  to  our  author's  quitting  the  stage.  But 
Spenser  himself,  it  is  well  known,  quitted  the  stage  of 
life  in  the  year  1598,  and  five  years  after  this  we  find 
Shakespeare's  name  among  the  actors  in  Ben  Jonson's 
"  Sejanus,"  which  first  made  its  appearance  in  the  year 
1603.  Nor,  surely,  could  he  then  have  any  thoughts  of 
retiring,  since  that  very  year  a  licence  under  the  privy- 
seal  was  granted  by  King  James  I.  to  him  and  Fletcher, 
Burbage,  Phillippes,  Hemings,  Condell,  etc.,  authoris- 
ing them  to  exercise  the  art  of  playing  comedies,  trage- 
dies, etc.,  as  well  at  their  usual  house  called  The  Globe 
on  the  other  side  of  the  water,  as  in  any  other  parts  of 
the  kingdom,  during  his  Majesty's  pleasure  (a  copy  of 
which  licence  is  preserved  in  Rymer's  Foedera).  Again, 
it  is  certain  that  Shakespeare  did  not  exhibit  his 
"  Macbeth "  till  after  the  Union  was  brought  about, 
and  till  after  King  James  I.  had  begun  to  touch  for  the 
evil ;  for  it  is  plain  he  has  inserted  compliments  on  both 


58  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

those  accounts  upon  his  royal  master,  in  that  tragedy. 
Nor,  indeed,  could  the  number  of  the  dramatick  pieces 
he  produced  admit  of  his  retiring  near  so  early  as  that 
period.  So  that  what  Spenser  there  says,  if  it  relate 
at  all  to  Shakespeare,  must  hint  at  some  occasional 
recess  he  made  for  a  time  upon  a  disgust  taken;  or  the 
Willi/  there  mentioned  must  relate  to  some  other  favour- 
ite poet.  I  believe  we  may  safely  determine  that  he 
had  not  quitted  in  the  year  1610.  For,  in  his  "  Tem- 
pest "  ^  our  author  makes  mention  of  the  Bermuda 
islands,  which  were  unknown  to  the  English  till,  in  1609, 
Sir  John  Summers  made  a  voyage  to  North  America 
and  discovered  them,  and  afterwards  invited  some  of 
his  countrymen  to  settle  a  plantation  there.  That  he 
became  a  private  gentleman  at  least  three  years  before 
his  decease  is  pretty  obvious  from  another  circum- 
stance; I  mean,  from  that  remarkable  and  well-known 
story  which  Mr.  Rowe  has  given  us  of  our  author's  inti- 
macy with  Mr.  John  Combe,  an  old  gentleman  noted 
thereabouts  for  his  wealth  and  usury,  and  upon  whom 
Shakespeare  made  the  following  facetious  epitaph: 

"Ten  in  the  hundred  lies  here  ingrav'd, 
*Tis  a  hundred  to  ten  his  soul  is  not  sav'd; 
If  any  man  ask,  who  lies  in  this  tomb. 
Oh!  oh!  quoth  the  devil,  'tis  my  John-a-Combe." 

This  sarcastical  piece  of  wit  was,  at  the  gentleman's 
own  request,  thrown  out  extemporally  in  his  company. 
And  this  Mr.  John  Combe  I  take  to  be  the  same  who,  by 
Dugdale  in  his  "  Antiquities  of  Warwickshire  "  is  said 
to  have  died  in  the  year  1614,  and  for  whom,  at  the 

* "     ...    to  fetch  dew 

From  the  still-vex'd  Bermoothes." 

— "  Tempest."     Act  I.  2. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  69 

upper  end  of  the  quire  of  the  Guild  of  the  Holy  Cross 
at  Stratford  a  fair  monument  is  erected,  having  a 
statue  thereon  cut  in  alabaster,  and  in  a  gown,  with 
this  epitaph :  "  Here  lieth  interred  the  body  of  John 
Combe,  esq.,  who  died  the  10th  of  July,  1614,  who  be- 
queathed several  annual  charities  to  the  parish  of  Strat- 
ford, and  £100  to  be  lent  to  fifteen  poor  tradesmen  from 
three  years  to  three  years,  changing  the  parties  every 
third  year,  at  the  rate  of  fifty  shillings  per  annum,  the 
increase  to  be  distributed  to  the  almes-poor  there." 
The  donation  has  all  the  air  of  a  rich  and  sagacious 
usurer. 

Shakespeare  himself  did  not  survive  Mr.  Combe  long, 
for  he  died  in  the  year  1616,  the  53d  of  his  age.  He 
lies  buried  on  the  north  side  of  the  chancel  in  the  great 
church  at  Stratford,  where  a  monument,  decent  enough 
for  the  time,  is  erected  to  him,  and  placed  against  the 
wall.  He  is  represented  under  an  arch  in  a  sitting  pos- 
ture, a  cushion  spread  before  him,  with  a  pen  in  his 
right  hand,  and  his  left  rested  on  a  scroll  of  paper. 
The  Latin  distich  which  is  placed  under  the  cushion  has 
been  given  us  by  Mr.  Pope,  or  his  graver,  in  this 
manner : 

*'  INOENIO  Pylium,  genio  Socratem,  arte  Maronem, 
Terra  tegit,  populus  moeret,  Olympus  hahet'* 

I  confess  I  do  not  perceive  the  difference  between  in- 
genio  and  genio  in  the  first  verse.  They  seem  to  me 
intirely  synonymous  terms;  nor  was  the  Pylian  sage 
Nestor  celebrated  for  his  ingenuity,  but  for  an  experi- 
ence and  judgment  owing  to  his  long  age.  Dugdale, 
in  his  "  Antiquities  of  Warwickshire,"  has  copied  this 
distich  with  a  distinction  which  Mr.  Rowe  has  followed, 


60  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

and  which  certainly  restores  us  the  true  meaning  of  the 
epitaph : 

" JUDICIO  Pylium,  genio  Socratem"  etc* 

In  1614  the  greater  part  of  the  town  of  Stratford  was 
consumed  by  fire,  but  our  Shakespeare's  house,  among 
some  others,  escaped  the  flames.  This  house  was  first 
built  by  Sir  Hugh  Clopton,  a  younger  brother  of  an 
ancient  family  in  that  neighbourhood,  who  took  their 
name  from  the  manor  of  Clopton.  Sir  Hugh  was 
Sheriff  of  London  in  the  reign  of  Richard  III.,  and  Lord 
Mayor  in  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VII.  To  this  gen- 
tleman the  town  of  Stratford  Is  indebted  for  the  fine 
stone  bridge,  consisting  of  fourteen  arches,  which,  at  an 
extraordinary  expense,  he  built  over  the  Avon,  together 
with  a  causeway  running  at  the  west  end  thereof ;  as  also 
for  rebuilding  the  chapel  adjoining  his  house,  and  the 
cross-aisle  in  the  church  there.  It  is  remarkable  of 
him  that  though  he  lived  and  died  a  bachelor,  among  the 
other  extensive  charities  which  he  left  both  to  the  city  of 
London  and  town  of  Stratford,  he  bequeathed  consider- 
able legacies  for  the  marriage  of  poor  maidens  of  good 
name  and  fame  both  in  London  and  at  Stratford. 
Notwithstanding  which  large  donations  in  his  life,  and 
bequests  at  his  death,  as  he  had  purchased  the  manor  of 
Clopton,  and  all  the  estates  of  the  family,  so  he  left 
the  same  again  to  his  elder  brother's  son  with  a  very 
great  addition  (a  proof  of  how  well  beneficence  and 
economy  may  walk  hand  in  hand  in  wise  families),  good 
part  of  which  estate  Is  yet  in  the  possession  of  Edward 
Clopton,  Esq.,  and  Sir  Hugh  Clopton,  Knt.,  lineally 
descended  from  the  elder  brother  of  the  first  Sir  Hugh, 
^Judicio  Pylium  is  the  correct  transcription. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  61 

who  particularly  bequeathed  to  his  nephew,  by  his 
will,  his  house,  by  the  name  of  his  Great  House  in 
Stratford. 

The  estate  had  now  been  sold  out  of  the  Clopton  fam- 
ily for  above  a  century  at  the  time  when  Shakespeare 
became  the  purchaser;  who,  having  repaired  and  re- 
modelled it  to  his  own  mind,  changed  the  name  to  New- 
Place,  which  the  mansion-house,  since  erected  upon  the 
same  spot,  at  this  day  retains.  The  house,  and  lands 
which  attended  it,  continued  in  Shakespeare's  descend- 
ants to  the  time  of  the  Restoration,  when  they  were 
re-purchased  by  the  Clopton  family,  and  the  mansion 
now  belongs  to  Sir  Hugh  Clopton,  Knt.*  To  the  favour 
of  this  worthy  gentleman  I  owe  the  knowledge  of  one 
particular,  in  honour  of  our  poet's  once  dwelling-house, 
of  which  I  presume  Mr.  Rowe  never  was  apprised. 
When  the  civil  war  raged  in  England,  and  King  Charles 
the  First's  Queen  was  driven  by  the  necessities  of  affairs 
to  make  a  recess  in  Warwickshire,  she  kept  her  court 
for  three  weeks  ^  in  New-Place.  We  may  reasonably 
suppose  it  then  the  best  private  house  in  the  town ;  and 
her  Majesty  preferred  it  to  the  college,  which  was  in  the 
possession  of  the  Combe  family,  who  did  not  so  strongly 
favour  the  King's  party. 

How  much  our  author  employed  himself  in  poetry 
after  his  retirement  from  the  stage  does  not  so  evi- 
dently appear ;  very  few  posthumous  sketches  of  his  pen 
have  been  recovered  to  ascertain  that  point.     We  have 

*The  house  (rebuilt  after  Shakespeare's  time)  was  pulled  down 
by  its  owner  Francis  Gastrell  in  1759. 

"  "  Halliwell  [in  his  *  History  of  New  Place ']  reduced  these  three 
weeks  to  three  days,  July  11-13,  1643,  and  points  out  that  on  the 
14th  the  Queen  made  her  entry  into  Oxford  accompanied  by  the 
King:*— Karl  Elze,  "  William  Shakespeare,"  p.  524. 


62  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

been  told,  indeed,  in  print,  but  not  till  very  lately,  that 
two  large  chests  full  of  this  great  man's  loose  papers 
and  manuscripts,  in  the  hands  of  an  ignorant  baker  of 
Warwick  (who  married  one  of  the  descendants  from  our 
Shakespeare)  were  carelessly  scattered  and  thrown 
about  as  garret  lumber  and  litter,  to  the  particular 
knowledge  of  the  late  Sir  William  Bishop,  till  they  were 
all  consumed  in  the  general  fire  and  destruction  of  that 
town.  I  cannot  help  being  a  little  apt  to  distrust  the 
authority  of  this  tradition,  because  his  wife  survived 
him  seven  years,  and,  as  his  favourite  daughter  Susanna 
survived  her  twenty-six  years,  it  is  very  improbable 
they  should  suffer  such  a  treasure  to  be  removed  and 
translated  into  a  remoter  branch  of  the  family  without 
a  scrutiny  first  made  into  the  value  of  it.  This,  I  say, 
inclines  me  to  distrust  the  authority  of  the  relation; 
but  notwithstanding  such  an  apparent  improbability, 
if  we  really  lost  such  a  treasure,  by  whatever  fatality 
or  caprice  of  fortune  they  came  into  such  ignorant  and 
neglected  hands,  I  agree  with  the  relater,  the  misfor- 
tune is  wholly  irreparable. 

To  these  particulars,  which  regard  his  person  and 
private  life,  some  few  more  are  to  be  gleaned  from  Mr. 
Rowe's  Account  of  his  Life  and  Writings.  Let  us  now 
take  a  short  view  of  him  in  his  public  capacity  as  a 
writer,  and  from  thence  the  transition  will  be  easy  to 
the  state  in  which  his  writings  have  been  handed  down 
to  us. 

No  age,  perhaps,  can  produce  an  author  more  various 
from  himself  than  Shakespeare  has  been  universally  ac- 
knowledged to  be.  The  diversity  in  style  and  other 
parts  of  composition,  so  obvious  in  him,  is  as  variously 
to  be  accounted  for.     His  education,  we  find,  was  at 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  63 

best  but  begun;  and  he  started  early  into  a  science 
from  the  force  of  genius,  unequally  assisted  by  acquired 
improvements.  His  fire,  spirit,  and  exuberance  of 
imagination,  gave  an  impetuosity  to  his  pen;  his  ideas 
flowed  from  him  in  a  stream  rapid,  but  not  turbulent; 
copious,  but  not  ever  overbearing  its  shores.  The  ease 
and  sweetness  of  his  temper  might  not  a  little  contribute 
to  his  facility  in  writing,  as  his  employment  as  a  player 
gave  him  an  advantage  and  habit  of  fancying  himself 
the  very  character  he  meant  to  delineate.  He  used  the 
helps  of  his  function  in  forming  himself  to  create  and 
express  that  sublime,  which  other  actors  can  only  copy 
and  throw  out  in  action  and  graceful  attitude.  But, 
Nullum  sme  venia  placuit  ingenium,  says  Seneca.  The 
genius,  that  gives  us  the  greatest  pleasure,  sometimes 
stands  in  need  of  our  indulgence.  Whenever  this  hap- 
pens with  regard  to  Shakespeare,  I  would  willingly 
impute  it  to  a  vice  of  his  times.  We  see  complaisance 
enough  in  our  days  paid  to  a  bad  taste.  So  that  his 
clinches,  false  wit,  and  descending  beneath  himself,  may 
have  proceeded  from  a  deference  paid  to  the  then 
reigning  barbarism. 

I  have  not  thought  it  out  of  my  province,  whenever 
occasion  offered,  to  take  notice  of  some  of  our  poet's 
grand  touches  of  nature,  some,  that  do  not  appear 
sufficiently  such,  but  in  which  he  seems  the  most  deeply 
instructed;  and  to  which,  no  doubt,  he  has  so  much 
owed  that  happy  preservation  of  his  characters,  for 
which  he  is  justly  celebrated.  Great  geniuses,  like  his, 
naturally  unambitious,  are  satisfied  to  conceal  their 
arts  in  these  points.  It  is  the  foible  of  your  worser 
poets  to  make  a  parade  and  ostentation  of  that  little 
science  they  have;  and  to  throw  it  out  in  the  most 


64  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

ambitious  colours.  And  whenever  a  writer  of  this  class 
shall  attempt  to  copy  these  artful  concealments  of  our 
author,  and  shall  either  think  them  easy,  or  practised  by 
a  writer  for  his  ease,  he  will  soon  be  convinced  of  his 
mistake  by  the  difficulty  of  reaching  the  imitation 
of  them. 

"  8peret  idem,  sudet  multum,  frustraque  laboret, 
Ausus  idemi    .    .    ." 

Indeed  to  point  out  and  exclaim  upon  all  the  beauties 
of  Shakespeare,  as  they  come  singly  in  review,  would  be 
as  insipid,  as  endless;  as  tedious,  as  unnecessary:  but 
the  explanations  of  those  beauties  that  are  less  obvious 
to  common  readers,  and  whose  illustration  depends  on 
the  rules  of  just  criticism,  and  on  exact  knowledge  of 
human  life,  should  deservedly  have  a  share  in  a  general 
critique  upon  the  author.  But  to  pass  over  at  once  to 
another  subject: — 

It  has  been  allowed  on  all  hands,  how  far  our  author 
was  indebted  to  nature;  it  is  not  so  well  agreed,  how 
much  he  owed  to  languages  and  acquired  learning.  The 
decisions  on  this  subject  were  certainly  set  on  foot  by 
the  hint  from  Ben  Jonson,  that  he  had  small  Latin,  and 
less  Greek:  and  from  this  tradition,  as  it  were,  Mr. 
Rowe  has  thought  fit  peremptorily  to  declare  that, 
*'  It  is  without  controversy,  he  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
writings  of  the  ancient  poets,  for  that  in  his  works  we 
find  no  traces  of  anything  which  looks  like  an  imitation 
of  the  ancients.  For  the  delicacy  of  his  taste  (con- 
tinues he)  and  the  natural  bent  of  his  own  great  genius 
(equal,  if  not  superior,  to  some  of  the  best  of  theirs), 
would  certainly  have  led  him  to  read  and  study  them 
with  so  much  pleasure,  that  some  of  their  fine  images 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  66 

would  naturally  have  insinuated  themselves  Into,  and 
been  mixed  with,  his  own  writings :  and  so  his  not  copy- 
ing, at  least  something  from  them,  may  be  an  argument 
of  his  never  having  read  them."  I  shall  leave  it  to  the 
determination  of  my  learned  readers,  from  the  numerous 
passages  which  I  have  occasionally  quoted  in  my  notes, 
in  which  our  poet  seems  closely  to  have  imitated  the 
classicks,  whether  Mr.  Rowe's  assertion  be  so  absolutely 
to  be  depended  on.  The  result  of  the  controversy  must 
certainly,  either  way,  terminate  to  our  author's 
honour:  how  happily  he  could  imitate  them,  if  that 
point  be  allowed;  or  how  gloriously  he  could  think  like 
them,  without  owing  anything  to  imitation. 

Though  I  should  be  very  unwilling  to  allow  Shake- 
speare so  poor  a  scholar,  as  many  have  laboured  to 
represent  him,  yet  I  shall  be  very  cautious  of  declaring 
too  positively  on  the  other  side  of  the  question ;  that  is, 
with  regard  to  my  opinion  of  his  knowledge  in  the  dead 
languages.  And  therefore  the  passages,  that  I 
occasionally  quote  from  the  classicks,  shall  not  be  urged 
as  proofs  that  he  knowingly  imitated  those  originals; 
but  brought  to  show  how  happily  he  has  expressed  him- 
self upon  the  same  topicks.  A  very  learned  critick  of 
our  own  nation  has  declared  that  a  sameness  of  thought 
and  sameness  of  expression  too,  in  two  writers  of  a 
different  age,  can  hardly  happen,  without  a  violent 
suspicion  of  the  latter  copying  from  his  predecessor. 
I  shall  not  therefore  run  any  great  risque  of  a  censure, 
therefore  I  should  venture  to  hint,  that  the  resemblances 
in  thought  and  expression  of  our  author  and  an  ancient 
(which  we  should  allow  to  be  imitation  in  the  one  whose 
learning  was  not  questioned)  may  sometimes  take  its 
rise  from  strength  of  memory,  and  those  impressions 


66  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

which  he  owed  to  the  school.  And  if  we  may  allow  a 
possibility  of  this,  considering  that,  when  he  quitted  the 
school,  he  gave  in  to  his  father's  profession  and  way 
of  living,  and  had,  it  is  likely,  but  a  slender  library  of 
classical  learning;  and  considering  what  a  number  of 
translations,  romances,  and  legends,  started  about  his 
time,  and  a  little  before  (most  of  which,  it  is  very 
evident,  he  read),  I  think  it  may  easily  be  reconciled  why 
he  rather  schemed  his  plots  and  characters  from  these 
more  latter  informations,  than  went  back  to  those 
fountains,  for  which  he  might  entertain  a  sincere 
veneration,  but  to  which  he  could  not  have  so  ready  a 
recourse. 

In  touching  upon  another  part  of  his  learning,  as  it 
related  to  the  knowledge  of  history  and  books,  I  shall 
advance  something  that,  at  first  sight,  will  very  much 
wear  the  appearance  of  a  paradox.  For  I  shall  find  it 
no  hard  matter  to  prove,  that,  from  the  grossest 
blunders  in  history,  we  are  not  to  infer  his  real  ignor- 
ance of  it ;  nor  from  a  greater  use  of  Latin  words,  than 
ever  any  other  English  author  used,  must  we  infer  his 
intimate  acquaintance  with  that  language. 

A  reader  of  taste  may  easily  observe,  that  though 
Shakespeare,  almost  in  every  scene  of  his  historical 
plays,  commits  the  grossest  offences  against  chro- 
nology, history,  and  ancient  politicks ;  yet  this  was  not 
through  ignorance,  as  is  generally  supposed,  but 
through  the  too  powerful  blaze  of  his  imagination, 
which,  once  raised,  made  all  acquired  knowledge  vanish 
and  disappear  before  it.  But  this  licence  in  him,  as  I 
have  said,  must  not  be  imputed  to  ignorance,  since  as 
often  we  may  find  him,  when  occasion  serves,  reasoning 
up  to  the  truth  of  history ;  and  throwing  out  sentiments 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  67 

as  justly  adapted  to  the  circumstances,  of  his  subject, 
as  to  the  dignity  of  his  characters,  or  dictates  of  nature 
in  general. 

Then  to  come  to  his  knowledge  of  the  Latin  tongue,  it 
is  certain  there  is  a  surprising  effusion  of  Latin  words 
made  English,  far  more  than  in  any  one  English  author 
I  have  seen;  but  we  must  be  cautious  to  imagine  this 
was  of  his  own  doing.  For  the  English  tongue,  in  this 
age,  began  extremely  to  suffer  by  an  inundation  of 
Latin:  and  this  to  be  sure,  was  occasioned  by  the 
pedantry  of  those  two  monarchs,  Elizabeth  and  James, 
both  great  Latinists.  For  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at, 
if  both  the  court  and  schools,  equal  flatterers  of  power, 
should  adapt  themselves  to  the  royal  taste. 

But  now  I  am  touching  on  the  question  (which  has  been 
so  frequently  agitated,  yet  so  entirely  undecided)  of 
his  learning  and  acquaintance  with  the  languages:  an 
additional  word  or  two  naturally  falls  in  here  upon  the 
genius  of  our  author,  as  compared  with  that  of  Jonson, 
his  contemporary.  They  are  confessedly  the  greatest 
writers  our  nation  could  ever  boast  of  in  the  drama. 
The  first,  we  say,  owed  all  to  his  prodigious  natural 
genius;  and  the  other  a  great  deal  to  his  art  and 
learning.  This,  if  attended  to,  will  explain  a  very 
remarkable  appearance  in  their  writings.  Besides, 
those  wonderful  master-pieces  of  art  and  genius,  which 
each  has  given  us ;  they  are  the  authors  of  other  works 
very  unworthy  of  them :  but  with  this  difference,  that  in 
Jonson's  bad  pieces  we  do  not  discover  one  single  trace 
of  the  author  of  "  The  Fox  "  and  "  Alchemist " ;  but  in 
the  wild  extravagant  notes  of  Shakespeare,  you  every 
now  and  then  encounter  strains  that  recognise  the  divine 
composer.    This  difference  may  be  thus  accounted  for. 


68  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Jonson,  as  we  said  before,  owing  all  his  excellence  to  his 
art,  by  which  he  sometimes  strained  himself  to  an 
uncommon  pitch,  when  at  other  times,  he  unbent  and 
played  with  his  subject,  having  nothing  then  to  support 
him,  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  wrote  so  far  beneath 
himself.  But  Shakespeare,  indebted  more  largely  to 
nature  than  the  other  to  acquired  talents,  in  his  most 
negligent  hours,  could  never  so  totally  divest  himself  of 
his  genius,  but  that  it  would  frequently  break  out  with 
astonishing  force  and  splendor. 

As  I  have  never  proposed  to  dilate  farther  on  the 
character  of  my  author  than  was  necessary  to  explain 
the  nature  and  use  of  this  edition,  I  shall  proceed  to 
consider  him  as  a  genius  in  possession  of  an  everlasting 
name.  And  how  great  that  merit  must  be,  which  could 
gain  it  against  all  the  disadvantages  of  the  horrid  con- 
dition in  which  he  had  hitherto  appeared !  Had  Homer, 
or  any  other  admired  author,  first  started  into  publick 
so  maimed  and  deformed,  we  cannot  determine  whether 
they  had  not  sunk  for  ever  under  the  ignominy  of  such 
an  ill  appearance.  The  mangled  condition  of  Shake- 
speare has  been  acknowledged  by  Mr.  Rowe,  who 
published  him  indeed,  but  neither  corrected  his  text,  nor 
collated  the  old  copies.  This  gentleman  has  abilities, 
and  sufficient  knowledge  of  his  author,  had  but  his 
industry  been  equal  to  his  talents.  The  same  mangled 
condition  has  been  acknowledged,  too,  by  Mr.  Pope, 
who  published  him  likewise,  pretended  to  have  collated 
the  old  copies,  and  yet  seldom  has  corrected  the  text 
but  to  his  injury.  I  congratulate  with  the. manes  of 
our  poet,  that  this  gentleman  has  been  sparing  in 
indulging  his  private  sense,  as  he  phrases  it;  for  he 
who  tampers  with  an  author,  whom  he  does  not  under- 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  69 

stand,  must  do  it  at  the  expence  of  his  subject.  I  have 
made  it  evident  throughout  my  remarks,  that  he  has 
frequently  inflicted  a  wound  where  he  intended  a  cure. 
He  has  acted  with  regard  to  our  author,  as  an  editor, 
whom  Lipsius  mentions,  did  with  regard  to  Martial; 
Inventus  est  nescio  quis  Popa,  qui  non  vitia  ejus,  sed 
ipsum  excidit.  He  has  attacked  him  like  an  unhandy 
slaughterman;  and  not  lopped  off  the  errors,  but  the 
poet. 

While  this  is  found  to  be  fact,  how  absurd  must  appear 
the  praises  of  such  an  editor!  It  seems  a  moot  point, 
whether  Mr.  Pope  has  done  most  injury  to  Shakespeare, 
as  an  editor  and  encomiast ;  or  Mr.  Rymer  has  done  him 
service,  as  his  rival  and  censurer.  They  have  both 
shown  themselves  in  an  equal  impuissance  of  suspecting 
or  amending  the  corrupted  passages:  and  though  it  be 
neither  prudent  to  censure  or  commend  what  one  does 
not  understand ;  yet  if  a  man  must  do  one  when  he  plays 
the  critick,  the  latter  is  the  more  ridiculous  office;  and 
by  that  Shakespeare  suffers  most.  For  the  natural 
veneration  which  we  have  for  him  makes  us  apt  to 
swallow  whatever  is  given  us  as  his,  and  set  off  with 
encomiums;  and  hence  we  quit  all  suspicions  of  deprav- 
ity: on  the  contrary,  the  censure  of  so  divine  an  author 
sets  us  upon  his  defence;  and  this  produces  an  exact 
scrutiny  and  examination,  which  ends  in  finding  out  and 
discriminating  the  true  from  the  spurious. 

It  is  not  with  any  secret  pleasure  that  I  so  frequently 
animadvert  on  Mr.  Pope  as  a  critick,  but  there  are 
provocations,  which  a  man  can  never  quite  forget.  His 
libels  have  been  thrown  out  with  so  much  inveteracy, 
that,  not  to  dispute  whether  they  should  come  from  a 
Christian,  they  leave  it  a  question  whether  they  could 


70  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

come  from  a  man.  I  should  be  loth  to  doubt,  as  Quintus 
Serenus  did  in  a  like  case : 

"  Sive  homo,  seu  similis  turpissima  bestia  nobis 
Vulnera  dente  dedit.    .    .    ." 

The  indignation,  perhaps,  for  being  represented  a 
blockhead,  ^  may  be  as  strong  in  us,  as  it  is  in  the 
ladies  for  a  reflection  on  their  beauties.  It  is  certain,  I 
am  indebted  to  him  for  some  flagrant  civilities;  and  I 
shall  willingly  devote  a  part  of  my  life  to  the  honest 
endeavour  of  quitting  scores:  with  this  exception,  how- 
ever, that  I  will  not  return  those  civilities  in  his  peculiar 
strain,  but  confine  myself,  at  least,  to  the  limits  of 
common  decency.  I  shall  ever  think  it  better  to  want 
wit,  than  to  want  humanity:  and  impartial  posterity 
may,  perhaps,  be  of  my  opinion. 

But  to  return  to  my  subject,  which  now  calls  upon  me 
to  enquire  into  those  causes,  to  which  the  depravations 
of  my  author  originally  may  be  assigned.  We  are  to 
consider  him  as  a  writer,  of  whom  no  authentick  manu- 
script was  left  extant;  as  a  writer,  whose  pieces  were 
dispersedly  performed  on  the  several  stages  then  in 
being.  And  it  was  the  custom  of  those  days  for  the 
poets  to  take  a  price  of  the  players  for  the  pieces  they, 
from  time  to  time,  furnished;  and  thereupon,  it  was 
supposed  they  had  no  farther  right  to  print  them  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  players.  As  it  was  the  interest 
of  the  companies  to  keep  their  plays  unpublished,  when 
any  one  succeeded,  there  was  a  contest  betwixt  the 
curiosity  of  the  town,  who  demanded  to  see  it  printed, 
and  the  policy  of  the  stagers,  who  wished  to  secrete  it 

•"High  on  a  gorgeous  seat  that  far  outshone  Henley's  gilt  tub, 
or  Flecknoe's  Irish  throne,  Great  Tibbald  nods." — Pope's 
"  Dunciad." 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  71 

withm  their  own  walls.  Hence  many  pieces  were  taken 
down  in  short-hand,  and  imperfectly  copied  by  ear  from 
a  representation;  others  were  printed  from  piece-meal 
parts  surreptitiously  obtained  from  the  theatres, 
uncorrect,  and  without  the  poet's  knowledge.  To  some 
of  these  causes  we  owe  the  train  of  blemishes  that 
deform  those  pieces  which  stole  singly  into  the  world  in 
our  author's  life-time.  '^ 

There  are  still  other  reasons,  which  may  be  supposed 
to  have  affected  the  whole  set.  When  the  players  took 
upon  them  to  publish  his  works  entire,  every  theatre  was 
ransacked  to  supply  the  copy;  and  parts  collected, 
which  had  gone  through  as  many  changes  as  per- 
formers, either  from  mutilations  or  additions  made  to 
them.  Hence  we  derive  many  chasms  and  incoherences 
in  the  sense  and  matter.  Scenes  were  frequently  trans- 
posed, and  shuffled  out  of  their  true  place,  to  humour 
the  caprice,  or  supposed  convenience,  of  some  particular 
actor.  Hence  much  confusion  and  impropriety  has 
attended  and  embarrassed  the  business  and  fable.  To 
these  obvious  causes  of  corruption  it  must  be  added, 
that  our  author  has  lain  under  the  disadvantage  of 
having  his  errors  propagated  and  multiplied  by  time: 
because,  for  near  a  century,  his  works  were  published 
from  the  faulty  copies,  without  the  assistance  of  any 
intelligent  editor:  which  has  been  the  case  likewise  of 
many  a  classick  writer. 

The  nature  of  any  distemper  once  found  has  generally 
been  the  immediate  step  to  a  cure.  Shakespeare's  case 
has  in  a  great  measure  resembled  that  of  a  corrupt 
classick;  and,  consequently,  the  method  of  cure  was 
likewise  to  bear  a  resemblance.  By  what  means,  and 
'  Vide  Heminge  and  Condell's  Introduction,  p  3. 


72  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

with  what  success,  this  cure  has  been  effected  on 
ancient  writers,  is  too  well  known,  and  needs  no  formal 
illustration.  The  reputation,  consequent  on  tasks  of 
that  nature,  invite  me  to  attempt  the  method  here ;  with 
this  view,  the  hopes  of  restoring  to  the  publick  their 
greatest  poet  in  his  original  purity,  after  having  so 
long  lain  in  a  condition  that  was  a  disgrace  to  common 
sense.  To  this  end  I  have  ventured  on  a  labour,  that 
is  the  first  essay  of  the  kind  on  any  modern  author 
whatsoever.  For  the  late  edition  of  Milton,  by  the 
learned  Dr.  Bentley,  is,  in  the  main,  a  performance  of 
another  species.  It  is  plain,  it  was  the  intention  of 
that  great  man  rather  to  correct  and  pare  off  the 
excrescencies  of  the  "  Paradise  Lost,"  in  the  manner 
that  Tucca  and  Varius  were  employed  to  criticise  the 
JEneid  of  Virgil,  than  to  restore  corrupted  passages. 
Hence,  therefore,  may  be  seen  either  the  Iniquity  or 
ignorance  of  his  censurers,  who,  from  some  expressions 
would  make  us  believe  the  doctor  every  where  gives  us 
his  corrections  as  the  original  text  of  the  author; 
whereas  the  chief  turn  of  his  criticism  is  plainly  to 
show  the  world,  that,  if  Milton  did  not  write  as  he 
would  have  him,  he  ought  to  have  wrote  so. 

I  thought  proper  to  premise  this  observation  to  the 
readers,  as  it  will  show  that  the  critick  on  Shakespeare 
is  of  a  quite  different  kind.  His  genuine  text  is  for  the 
most  part,  religiously  adhered  to,  and  the  numerous 
faults  and  blemishes,  purely  his  own,  are  left  as  they 
were  found.  Nothing  is  altered  but  what  by  the  clearest 
reasoning  can  be  proved  a  corruption  of  the  true  text ; 
and  the  alteration,  a  real  restoration  of  the  genuine 
reading.  Nay,  so  strictly  have  I  strove  to  give  the  true 
reading,  though  sometimes  not  to  the  advantage  of  my 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  73 

author,  that  I  have  been  ridiculously  ridiculed  for  it  by 
those,  who  either  were  iniquitously  for  turning  every 
thing  to  my  disadvantage ;  or  else  were  totally  ignorant 
of  the  true  duty  of  an  editor. 

The  science  of  criticism,  as  far  as  it  affects  an  editor, 
seems  to  be  reduced  to  these  three  classes ;  the  emenda- 
tion of  corrupt  passages ;  the  explanation  of  obscure 
and  difficult  ones ;  and  an  enquiry  into  the  beauties  and 
defects  of  composition.  This  work  is  principally  con- 
fined to  the  two  former  parts:  though  there  are  some 
specimens  interspersed  of  the  latter  kind,  as  several  of 
the  emendations  were  best  supported,  and  several  of  the 
difficulties  best  explained,  by  taking  notice  of  the 
beauties  and  defects  of  the  composition  peculiar  to  this 
immortal  poet.  But  this  was  but  occasional,  and  for 
the  sake  only  of  perfecting  the  two  other  parts,  which 
were  the  proper  objects  of  the  editor's  labour.  The 
third  lies  open  for  every  willing  undertaker :  and  I  shall 
be  pleased  to  see  it  the  employment  of  a  masterly  pen. 

It  must  necessarily  happen,  as  I  have  formerly 
observed,  that  where  the  assistance  of  manuscripts  is 
wanting  to  set  an  author's  meaning  right,  and  rescue 
him  from  those  errors  which  have  been  transmitted 
down  through  a  series  of  incorrect  editions,  and  a  long 
intervention  of  time,  many  passages  must  be  desperate, 
and  past  a  cure;  and  their  true  sense  irretrievable 
either  to  care  or  the  sagacity  of  conjecture.  But  is 
there  any  reason  therefore  to  say,  that  because  all 
cannot  be  retrieved,  all  ought  to  be  left  desperate  ?  We 
should  show  very  little  honesty,  or  wisdom,  to  play  the 
tyrants  with  an  author's  text;  to  raze,  alter,  innovate, 
and  overturn,  at  all  adventures,  and  to  the  utter  detri- 
ment of  his   sense   and  meaning:  but  to  be  so  very 


74  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

reserved  and  cautious,  as  to  interpose  no  relief  or  con- 
jecture, where  it  manifestly  labours  and  cries  out  for 
assistance,  seems,  on  the  other  hand,  an  indolent 
absurdity. 

As  there  are  very  few  pages  in  Shakespeare,  upon 
which  some  suspicions  of  depravity  do  not  reasonably 
arise ;  I  have  thought  it  my  duty  in  the  first  place,  by  a 
diligent  and  laborious  collation,  to  take  in  the  assistance 
of  all  the  older  copies. 

In  his  historical  plays,  whenever  our  English  chroni- 
cles, and  in  his  tragedies,  when  Greek  or  Roman  story 
could  give  any  light,  no  pains  have  been  omitted  to  set 
passages  right,  by  comparing  my  author  with  his 
originals ;  for,  as  I  have  frequently  observed,  he  was  a 
close  and  accurate  copier  wherever  his  fable  was 
founded  on  history. 

Wherever  the  author's  sense  is  clear  and  discoverable, 
(though,  perchance,  low  and  trivial),  I  have  not  by  any 
innovation  tampered  with  his  text,  out  of  an  ostentation 
of  endeavouring  to  make  him  speak  better  than  the  old 
copies  have  done. 

Where,  through  all  the  former  editions,  a  passage  has 
laboured  under  flat  nonsense  and  invincible  darkness,  if, 
by  the  addition  or  alteration  of  a  letter  or  two,  or  a 
transposition  in  the  pointing,  I  have  restored  to  him 
both  sense  and  sentiment;  such  corrections,  I  am 
persuaded,  will  need  no  indulgence. 

And  whenever  I  have  taken  a  greater  latitude  and  lib- 
erty in  amending,  I  have  constantly  endeavoured  to 
support  my  corrections  and  conjectures  by  parallel 
passages  and  authorities  from  himself,  the  surest  means 
of  expounding  any  author  whatsover.  "  Cette  voie 
d'inter'preter  un  autheur  par  luimeme  est  plus  sure  que 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  75 

tou8  les  comTnentaires"  says  a  very  learned  French 
critick. 

As  to  my  notes,  (from  which  the  common  and  learned 
readers  of  our  author,  I  hope,  will  derive  some  satisfac- 
tion), I  have  endeavoured  to  give  them  a  variety  in 
some  proportion  to  their  number.  Wherever  I  have 
ventured  at  an  emendation,  a  note  is  constantly  sub- 
joined to  justify  and  assert  the  reason  of  it.  Where  I 
only  offer  a  conjecture,  and  do  not  disturb  the  text,  I 
fairly  set  forth  my  grounds  for  such  conjecture,  and 
submit  it  to  judgment.  Some  remarks  are  spent  in 
explaining  passages,  where  the  wit  or  satire  depends  on 
an  obscure  point  of  history :  others,  where  allusions  are 
to  divinity,  philosophy,  or  other  branches  of  science. 
Some  are  added  to  show  where  there  is  a  suspicion  of 
our  author  having  borrowed  from  the  ancients :  others, 
to  show  where  he  is  rallying  his  contemporaries;  or 
where  he  himself  is  rallied  by  them.  And  some  are 
necessarily  thrown  in,  to  explain  an  obscure  and  obsolete 
term,  phrase,  or  idea.  I  once  intended  to  have  added  a 
complete  and  copious  glossary;  but  as  I  have  been 
importuned,  and  am  prepared  to  give  a  correct  edition 
of  our  author's  poems,  (in  which  many  terms  occur 
which  are  not  to  be  met  with  in  his  plays),  I  thought  a 
glossary  to  all  Shakespeare's  works  more  proper  to 
attend  that  volume. 

In  reforming  an  infinite  number  of  passages  in  the 
pointing,  where  the  sense  was  before  quite  lost,  I  have 
frequently  subjoined  notes  to  show  the  depraved,  and 
to  prove  the  reformed,  pointing:  a  part  of  labour  in 
this  work  which  I  could  very  willingly  have  spared 
myself.  May  it  not  be  objected,  why  then  have  you 
burdened  us  with  these  notes  .'^    The  answer  is  obvious, 


76  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

and  if  I  mistake  not,  very  material.  Without  such 
notes,  these  passages  in  subsequent  editions  would  be 
liable,  through  the  ignorance  of  printers  and  correctors, 
to  fall  into  the  old  confusion:  whereas,  a  note  on  every 
one  hinders  all  possible  return  to  depravity:  and  for- 
ever secures  them  in  a  state  of  purity  and  integrity  not 
to  be  lost  or  forfeited. 

Again,  as  some  notes  have  been  necessary  to  point  out 
the  detection  of  the  corrupted  text,  and  establish  the 
restoration  of  the  genuine  reading;  some  others  have 
been  as  necessary  for  the  explanation  of  passages 
obscure  and  difScult.  To  understand  the  necessity  and 
use  of  this  part  of  my  task,  some  particulars  of  my 
author's  character  are  previously  to  be  explained. 
There  are  obscurities  in  him,  which  are  common  to  him 
with  all  poets  of  the  same  species ;  there  are  others,  the 
issue  of  the  times  he  lived  in;  and  there  are  others, 
again,  peculiar  to  himself.  The  nature  of  comick 
poetry  being  entirely  satirical,  it  busies  itself  more  in 
exposing  what  we  call  caprice  and  humour,  than  vices 
cognizable  to  the  laws.  The  English,  from  the  happi- 
ness of  a  free  constitution,  and  a  turn  of  mind 
peculiarly  speculative  and  inquisitive,  are  observed  to 
produce  more  humourists,  and  a  greater  variety  of 
original  characters,  than  any  other  people  whatsoever: 
and  these  owing  their  immediate  birth  to  the  peculiar 
genius  of  each  age,  an  infinite  number  of  things 
alluded  to,  glanced  at,  and  exposed,  must  needs  become 
obscure,  as  the  characters  themselves  are  antiquated 
and  disused.  An  editor,  therefore,  should  be  well 
versed  in  the  history  and  manners  of  his  author's  age, 
if  he  aims  at  doing  him  a  service  in  this  respect. 

Besides,  wit  lying  mostly  in  the  assemblage  of  ideas, 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  77 

and  m  putting  those  together  with  quickness  and 
variety,  wherein  can  be  found  any  resemblance,  or  con- 
gruity,  to  make  up  pleasant  pictures,  and  agreeable 
visions  in  the  fancy;  the  writer,  who  aims  at  wit,  must 
of  course,  range  far  and  wide  for  materials.  Now  the 
age  in  which  Shakespeare  lived,  having,  above  all  others, 
a  wonderful  affection  to  appear  learned,  they  declined 
vulgar  images,  such  as  are  immediately  fetched  from 
nature,  and  ranged  through  the  circle  of  the  sciences,  to 
fetch  their  ideas  from  thence.  But  as  the  resemblances 
of  such  ideas  to  the  subject  must  necessarily  lie  very 
much  out  of  the  common  way,  and  every  piece  of  wit 
appear  a  riddle  to  the  vulgar;  this,  that  should  have 
taught  them  the  forced,  quaint,  unnatural  tract  they 
were  in,  (and  induce  them  to  follow  a  more  natural 
one),  was  the  very  thing  that  kept  them  attached  to  it. 
The  ostentatious  affectation  of  abstruse  learning, 
peculiar  to  that  time,  the  love  that  men  naturally  have 
to  everything  that  looks  like  mystery,  fixed  them  down 
to  the  habit  of  obscurity.  Thus  became  the  poetry  of 
Donne  (though  the  wittiest  man  of  that  age),  nothing 
but  a  continued  heap  of  riddles.  And  our  Shakespeare, 
with  all  his  easy  nature  about  him,  for  want  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  true  rules  of  art,  falls  frequently  into 
this  vicious  manner. 

The  third  species  of  obscurities  which  deform  our 
author,  as  the  effects  of  his  own  genius  and  character, 
are  those  that  proceed  from  his  peculiar  manner  of 
thinking,  and  as  peculiar  a  manner  of  clothing  those 
thoughts.  With  regard  to  this  thinking,  it  is  certain 
that  he  had  a  general  knowledge  of  all  the  sciences :  but 
his  acquaintance  was  rather  that  of  a  traveller  than  a 
native.     Nothing  in  philosophy  was  unknown  to  him; 


78  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

but  every  thing  in  it  had  the  grace  and  force  of  novelty. 
And  as  novelty  is  one  main  source  of  admiration,  we 
are  not  to  wonder  that  he  has  perpetual  allusions  to  the 
most  recondite  parts  of  the  sciences :  and  this  was  done 
not  so  much  out  of  affectation,  as  the  effect  of  admira- 
tion begot  by  novelty.  Then,  as  to  his  style  and  diction, 
we  may  much  more  justly  apply  to  Shakespeare,  what  a 
celebrated  writer  said  of  Milton:  Our  language  sunk 
under  him,  and  was  unequal  to  that  greatness  of  soul 
which  furnished  him  with  such  glorious  conceptions. 
He  therefore  frequently  uses  old  words,  to  give  his 
diction  an  air  of  solemnity ;  as  he  coins  others,  to  express 
the  novelty  and  variety  of  his  ideas. 

Upon  every  distinct  species  of  these  obscurities,  I  have 
thought  it  my  province  to  employ  a  note  for  the  service 
of  my  author,  and  the  entertainment  of  my  readers. 
A  few  transient  remarks  too  I  have  not  scrupled  to 
intermix,  upon  the  poet's  negligence  and  omissions  in 
point  of  art ;  but  I  have  done  it  always  in  such  a 
manner,  as  will  testify  my  deference  and  veneration  for 
the  immortal  author.  Some  censurers  of  Shakespeare, 
and  particularly  Mr.  Rymer,  *  have  taught  me  to  dis- 
tinguish betwixt  the  railer  and  critick.  The  outrage  of 
his  quotations  is  so  remarkably  violent,  so  pushed 
beyond  all  bounds  of  decency  and  sober  reasoning,  that 
it  quite  carries  over  the  mark  at  which  it  was  levelled. 
Extravagant  abuse  throws  off  the  edge  of  the  intended 
disparagement,  and  turns  the  madman's  weapon 
into  his  own  bosom.  In  short,  as  to  Rymer,  this 
is  my  opinion  of  him  from  his  criticisms  on  the  trage- 

®"A  Short  View  of  Tragedy,"  etc.,  "with  some  reflections  on 
Shakespeare  and  other  practitioners  for  the  stage,"  by  Thomas 
Rymer,  1693. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  79 

dies  of  the  last  age.  He  writes  with  great  vivacity, 
and  appears  to  have  been  a  scholar:  but  as  for  his 
knowledge  of  the  art  of  poetry,  I  cannot  perceive  it  was 
any  deeper  than  his  acquaintance  with  Bossu  and 
Dacier,  from  whom  he  has  transcribed  many  of  his  best 
reflections.  The  late  Mr.  Gildon  ^  was  one  attached  to 
Rymer  by  a  similar  way  of  thinking  and  studies.  They 
were  both  of  that  species  of  criticks  who  are  desirous  of 
displaying  their  powers  rather  in  finding  faults,  than  in 
consulting  the  improvement  of  the  world;  the  hyper- 
critical part  of  the  science  of  criticism. 

I  had  not  mentioned  the  modest  liberty  I  have  here  and 
there  taken  of  animadverting  on  my  author,  but  that  I 
was  willing  to  obviate  in  time  the  splenetick  exaggera- 
tions of  my  adversaries  on  this  head.  From  past 
experiments  I  have  reason  to  be  conscious,  in  what  light 
this  attempt  may  be  placed:  and  that  what  I  call  a 
modest  liberty  will,  by  a  little  of  their  dexterity,  be 
inverted  into  downright  impudence.  From  a  hundred 
mean  and  dishonest  artifices  employed  to  discredit  this 
edition,  and  to  cry  down  its  editor,  I  have  all  the 
grounds  in  nature  to  beware  of  attacks.  But  though 
the  malice  of  wit,  joined  to  the  smoothness  of  versifica- 
tion, may  furnish  some  ridicule;  fact,  I  hope,  will  be 
able  to  stand  its  ground  against  banter  and  gaiety. 

It  has  been  my  fate,  it  seems,  as  I  thought  it  my  duty, 
to  discover  some  anachronisms  in  our  author;  which 
might  have  slept  in  obscurity  but  for  this  Restorer  as 
Mr.  Pope  is  pleased  aff^ectionately  to  style  me:  as  for 
instance,   where  Aristotle  is  mentioned  by  Hector  in 

'Charles  Gildon,  who  published  many  "Remarks**  and 
"  Reflections "  on  Shakespeare,  including  a  vindication  against 
Rymer's  "  Short  View." 


80  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

"  Troilus  and  Gressida " ;  and  Galen,  Cato,  and 
Alexander  the  Great,  in  "  Coriolanus."  These,  in  Mr. 
Pope's  opinion,  are  blunders,  which  the  illiteracy  of 
the  first  publishers  of  his  works  has  fathered  upon  the 
poet's  memory:  it  not  being  at  all  credible,  that  these 
could  be  the  errors  of  any  man  who  had  the  least 
tincture  of  a  school,  or  the  least  conversation  with  such 
as  had.  But  I  have  sufficiently  proved,  in  the  course  of 
my  notes,  that  such  anachronisms  were  the  effect  of 
poetick  licence,  rather  than  of  ignorance  in  our  poet. 
And  if  I  may  be  permitted  to  ask  a  modest  question 
by  the  way,  why  may  not  I  restore  an  anachronism 
really  made  by  our  author,  as  well  as  Mr.  Pope  take 
the  privilege  to  fix  others  upon  him,  which  he  never 
had  it  in  his  head  to  make ;  as  I  may  venture  to  affirm 
he  had  not,  in  the  instance  of  Sir  Francis  Drake,  to 
which  I  have  spoken  in  the  proper  place  .f* 

But  who  shall  dare  make  any  words  about  this  freedom 
of  Mr.  Pope's  toward  Shakespeare,  if  it  can  be  proved, 
that,  in  his  fits  of  criticism,  he  makes  no  more  ceremony 
with  good  Homer  himself?  To  try,  then,  a  criticism  of 
his  own  advancing:  in  the  eighth  book  of  the  Odyssey, 
where  Demodocus  sings  the  episode  of  the  loves  of  Mars 
and  Venus ;  and  that,  upon  their  being  taken  in  the  net 
by  Vulcan, 

"...  The  god  of  arms 
Must  pay  the  penalty  for  lawless  charms;" 

Mr.  Pope  is  so  kind  gravely  to  inform  us,  "  That  Homer 
in  this,  as  in  many  other  places,  seems  to  allude  to  the 
laws  of  Athens,  where  death  was  the  punishment  of 
adultery."  But  how  is  this  significant  observation  made 
out?    Why,  who  can  possibly  object  any  thing  to  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  81 

contrary? — ^Does  not  Pausanias  relate  that  Draco,  the 
lawgiver  to  the  Athenians,  granted  impunity  to  any 
person  that  took  revenge  upon  an  adulterer?  And  was 
it  not  also  the  institution  of  Solon,  that  if  any  one  took 
an  adulterer  in  the  fact,  he  might  use  him  as  he  pleased? 
These  things  are  very  true:  and  to  see  what  a  good 
memory,  and  sound  judgment  in  conjunction,  can 
achieve  though  Homer's  date  is  not  determined  down 
to  a  single  year,  yet  it  is  pretty  generally  agreed  that 
he  lived  above  three  hundred  years  before  Draco  and 
Solon:  and  that,  it  seems,  has  made  him  seem  to  allude 
to  the  very  laws,  which  these  two  legislators  propounded 
above  three  hundred  years  after.  If  this  inference  be 
not  something  like  an  anachronism  or  prolepsis,  I  will 
look  once  more  into  my  lexicons  for  the  true  meaning  of 
the  words.  It  appears  to  me,  that  somebody  besides 
Mars  and  Venus  has  been  caught  in  a  net  by  this 
episode:  and  I  could  call  in  other  instances,  to  confirm 
what  treacherous  tackle  this  net-work  is,  if  not 
cautiously  handled. 

How  just,  notwithstanding,  I  have  been  in  detecting 
the  anachronisms  of  my  author,  and  in  defending  him 
for  the  use  of  them,  our  late  editor  seems  to  think,  they 
should  rather  have  slept  in  obscurity:  and  the  having 
discovered  them  is  sneered  at,  as  a  sort  of  wrong-headed 
sagacity. 

The  numerous  corrections  which  I  have  made  of  the 
poet's  text  in  my  Shakespeare  Restored,  and  which  the 
publick  have  been  so  kind  to  think  well  of,  are  in  the 
appendix  of  Mr.  Pope's  last  edition,  slightingly  called 
various  readings,  guesses,  &c.  He  confesses  to  have 
inserted  as  many  of  them  as  he  judged  of  any  the  least 
advantage    to    the    poet;    but    says,  that    the  whole 


8^  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

amounted  to  about  twenty-five  words:  and  pretends  to 
have  annexed  a  complete  list  of  the  rest,  which  were  not 
worth  his  embracing.  Whoever  has  read  my  book  will, 
at  one  glance,  see  how  in  both  these  points  veracity  is 
strained,  so  an  injury  might  be  done.  Malus,  etsi 
ohesse  non  pote,  tamen  cogitat. 

Another  expedient  to  make  my  work  appear  of  a 
trifling  nature,  has  been  an  attempt  to  depreciate  literal 
criticism.  To  this  end,  and  to  pay  a  servile  compliment 
to  Mr.  Pope,  an  anonymous  writer  has,  like  a 
Scotch  pedlar  in  wit,  unbraced  his  pack  on  the  subject. 
But,  that  his  virulence  might  not  seem  to  be  levelled 
singly  at  me,  he  has  done  me  the  honour  to  join  Dr. 
Bentley  in  the  libel.  I  was  in  hopes  we  should  have  been 
both  abused  with  smartness  of  satire  at  least,  though  not 
with  solidity  of  argument ;  that  it  might  have  been  worth 
some  reply  in  defence  of  the  science  attacked.  But  I 
may  fairly  say  of  this  author,  as  Falsi aff  does  of 
Poins: — "Hang  him,  baboon!  his  wit  is  as  thick  as 
Tewksbury  mustard;  there  is  no  more  conceit  in  him, 
than  is  in  a  Mallet."  *^  If  it  be  not  a  profanation  to  set 
the  opinion  of  the  divine  Longinus  against  such  a  scrib- 
bler, he  tells  us  expressly,  "That  to  make  a  judgment 
upon  words  (and  writings)  is  the  most  consummate  fruit 
of  much  experience." 

^  yap  riDV  XSywv  xptfft^  ttoAA^?  e  nsipag  rsXsuraiov  entyevrjiia. 

Whenever  words  are  depraved,  the  sense  of  course  must 
be  corrupted;  and  thence  the  reader  is  betrayed  into  a 
false  meaning. 
If  the  Latin  and  Greek  languages  have  received  the 

"  David  Mallet  was  the  name  of  the  "  anonymous  writer." 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  83 

greatest  advantages  imaginable  from  the  labours  of  the 
editors  and  critics  of  the  last  two  ages,  by  whose  aid 
and  assistance  the  grammarians  have  been  enabled  to 
write  infinitely  better  in  that  art  than  even  the  preceding 
grammarians,  who  wrote  when  those  tongues  flourished 
as  living  languages ;  I  should  account  it  a  peculiar  hap- 
piness that,  by  the  faint  essay  I  have  made  in  this 
work,  a  path  might  be  chalked  out  for  abler  hands,  by 
which  to  derive  the  same  advantages  to  our  own  tongue ; 
a  tongue  which,  though  it  wants  none  of  the  funda- 
mental qualities  of  an  universal  language,  yet,  as  a 
noble  writer  says,  lisps  and  stammers  as  in  its  cradle, 
and  has  produced  little  more  towards  its  polishing  than 
complaints  of  its  barbarity. 

Having  now  run  through  all  these  points,  which  I 
intended  should  make  any  part  of  this  dissertation,  and 
having  in  my  former  edition  made  public  acknowledg- 
ments of  the  assistances  lent  me,  I  shall  conclude  with  a 
brief  acount  of  the  methods  taken  in  this. 

It  was  thought  proper,  in  order  to  reduce  the  bulk 
and  price  of  the  impression,  that  the  notes,  wherever 
they  would  admit  of  it,  might  be  abridged;  for  which 
reason  I  have  curtailed  a  great  quantity  of  such,  in 
which  explanations  were  too  prolix,  or  authorities  in 
support  of  an  emendation  too  numerous;  and  many  I 
have  entirely  expunged,  which  were  judged  rather  ver- 
bose and  declamatory  (and  so  notes  merely  of  ostenta- 
tion)  than  necessary  or  instructive. 

The  few  literal  errors  which  had  escaped  notice  for 
want  of  revisals,  in  the  former  edition,  are  here  re- 
formed, and  the  pointing  of  innumerable  passages  is 
regulated  with  all  the  accuracy  I  am  capable  of. 

I  shall  decline  making  any  further  declaration  of  the 


84  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

pains  I  have  taken  upon  my  author,  because  it  was  my 
duty,  as  his  editor,  to  publish  him  with  my  best  care 
and  judgment;  and  because  I  am  sensible  all  such  dec- 
larations are  construed  to  be  laying  a  sort  of  debt  on 
the  public.  As  the  former  edition  has  been  received 
with  much  indulgence,  I  ought  to  make  my  acknowledg- 
ments to  the  town  for  their  favourable  opinion  of  it, 
and  I  shall  always  be  proud  to  think  that  encouragement 
the  best  payment  I  can  hope  to  receive  for  my  poor 
studies. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  85 


SIR    THOMAS    HANMER 

1677-1746 

SIR  THOMAS  HANMER,  of  a  distinguished 
county  family,  was  born  at  the  family  seat  in 
Hanmer,  Suffolk,  September  24,  1677,  and 
died  May  7,  1746. 
He  was  a  student  of  Christ  Church,  Oxford,  and 
occupied  himself  during  the  entire  years  of  his  life 
with  politics  of  the  High-Church  tory  stamp.  In  spite 
of  his  aristocratic  convictions,  however,  he  was  one  of 
the  keenest  advocates  for  the  Protestant  Succession.  He 
was  a  member  of  Parliament  for  various  constituencies 
from  1701  to  1727.  In  1714  he  was  elected  Speaker  of 
the  House  of  Commons  and  was  in  that  high  office  at 
the  death  of  Queen  Anne.  Retiring  from  public  life 
in  1727,  he  devoted  the  balance  of  his  days  to  garden- 
ing and  literature. 

Under  the  auspices  of  Oxford  University  he  brought 
out  a  superbly  printed  edition  of  Shakespeare's  works 
in  six  volumes,  quarto,  in  1744.  His  critical  powers 
were  not  conspicuous,  although  some  of  his  readings 
were  of  value  enough  to  be  adopted  by  later  editors. 
The  Oxford  edition  was  an  elegant  and  ornamental  piece 
of  book-making,  containing  many  engravings,  a  worthy 
shrine  for  the  great  poet's  literary  remains. 
The  "  Dunciad  "  has  this  reference  to  Hanmer: 

**  There  moved  Montalto  with  superior  air. 
His  stretched  out  arms  displayed  a  volume  fair. 
Courtiers  and  patriots  in  two  ranks  divide 
Through  both  he  passed  and  bowed  from  side  to  side." 


86  FAMOUS   INTRODUCTIONS 

SIR    THOMAS    HANMER'S    PREFACE 

[Prefixed  to  quarto  edition  in  six  volumes,  1744.] 

What  the  public  is  here  to  expect  is  a  true  and  correct 
edition  of  Shakespeare's  works,  cleared  from  the  cor- 
ruption with  which  they  have  hitherto  abounded.  One 
of  the  great  admirers  of  this  incomparable  author  hath 
made  it  the  amusement  of  his  leisure  hours  for  many 
years  past  to  look  over  his  writings  with  a  careful  eye 
to  note  the  obscurities  and  absurdities  introduced  into 
the  text,  and  according  to  the  best  of  his  judgment  to 
restore  the  genuine  sense  and  purity  of  it.  In  this  he 
proposed  nothing  to  himself  but  his  private  satisfaction 
in  making  his  own  copy  as  perfect  as  he  could ;  but  as 
the  emendations  multiplied  upon  his  hands  other  gentle- 
men, equally  fond  of  the  author,  desired  to  see  them, 
and  some  were  so  kind  as  to  give  their  assistance,  by 
communicating  their  observations  and  conjectures  upon 
difficult  passages  which  had  occurred  to  them.  Thus 
by  degrees  the  work  growing  more  considerable  than 
was  at  first  expected,  they  who  had  the  opportunity 
of  looking  into  it,  too  partial  perhaps  in  their  judgment, 
thought  it  worth  being  made  public;  and  he  who  hath 
with  difficulty  yielded  to  their  persuasions  is  far  from 
desiring  to  reflect  upon  the  late  editors  for  the  omis- 
sions and  defects  which  they  left  to  be  supplied  by  others 
who  should  follow  them  in  the  same  province.  On  the 
contrary,  he  thinks  the  world  much  obliged  to  them  for 
the  progress  they  made  in  weeding  out  so  great  a  num- 
ber of  blunders  and  mistakes  as  they  have  done;  and 
probably  he  who  hath  carried  on  the  work  might  never 
have  thought  of  such  an  undertaking  if  he  had  not 
found  a  considerable  part  so  done  to  his  hands. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  87 

From  what  causes  it  proceeded  that  the  works  of  this 
author,  in  the  first  publication  of  them,  were  more 
injured  and  abused  than  perhaps  any  that  ever  passed 
the  press,  hath  been  sufficiently  explained  in  the  preface 
to  Mr.  Pope's  edition,  which  is  here  subjoined,  and  there 
needs  no  more  to  be  said  upon  that  subject.  This  only 
the  reader  is  desired  to  bear  in  mind,  that  as  the  corrup- 
tions are  more  numerous  and  of  a  grosser  kind  than  can 
be  well  conceived  but  by  those  who  have  looked  nearly 
into  them,  so  in  the  correcting  them  this  rule  hath  been 
most  strictly  observed,  not  to  give  a  loose  to  fancy  or 
indulge  a  licentious  spirit  of  criticism,  as  if  it  were 
fit  for  any  one  to  presume  to  judge  what  Shakespeare 
ought  to  have  written,  instead  of  endeavouring  to  dis- 
cover truly  and  retrieve  what  he  did  write ;  and  so  great 
caution  hath  been  used  in  this  respect  that  no  alterations 
have  been  made  but  what  the  sense  necessarily  required, 
what  the  measure  of  the  verse  often  helped  to  point  out, 
and  what  the  similitude  of  words  in  the  false  reading 
and  in  the  true,  generally  speaking,  appeared  very  well 
to  justify. 

Most  of  these  passages  are  here  thrown  to  the  bottom 
of  the  page  and  rejected  as  spurious,  which  were  stig- 
matised as  such  in  Mr.  Pope's  edition,  and  it  were  to  be 
wished  that  more  had  then  undergone  the  same  sentence. 
The  promoter  of  the  present  edition  hath  ventured 
to  discard  but  few  more  upon  his  own  judgment,  the 
most  considerable  of  which  is  that  wretched  piece  of 
ribaldry  in  "  King  Henry  the  Fifth,"  ^  put  into  the 
mouths  of  the  French  princess  and  an  old  gentlewoman, 
improper  enough  as  it  is  all  in  French,  and  not  intelli- 
gible to  an  English  audience;  and  yet  that  perhaps  is 

»Act  III.  4. 


88  FAMOUS   INTRODUCTIONS 

the  best  thing  that  can  be  said  of  it.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  but  a  great  deal  more  of  that  low  stuff, 
which  disgraces  the  works  of  this  great  author,  was 
foisted  in  by  the  players  after  his  death  to  please  the 
vulgar  audiences  by  which  they  subsisted ;  and  though 
some  of  the  poor  witticisms  and  conceits  must  be  sup- 
posed to  have  fallen  from  his  pen,  yet  as  he  hath  put 
them  generally  into  the  mouths  of  low  and  ignorant 
people,  so  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  wrote  for  the 
stage,  rude  and  unpolished  as  it  then  was,  and  the 
vicious  taste  of  the  age  must  stand  condemned  for 
them,  since  he  hath  left  upon  record  a  signal  proof  how 
much  he  despised  them.  In  his  play  of  "  The  Merchant 
of  Venice,"  ^  a  clown  is  introduced  quibbling  in  a  miser- 
able manner;  upon  which  one,  who  bears  the  character 
of  a  man  of  sense,  makes  the  following  reflection :  "  How 
every  fool  can  play  upon  a  word!  I  think  the  best 
grace  of  wit  will  shortly  turn  into  silence,  and  discourse 
grow  commendable  in  none  but  parrots."  He  could 
hardly  have  found  stronger  words  to  express  his  indig- 
nation at  those  false  pretences  to  wit  then  in  vogue,  and 
therefore,  though  such  trash  is  frequently  interspersed 
in  his  writings,  it  would  be  unjust  to  cast  it  as  an  impu- 
tation upon  his  taste  and  judgment  and  character  as  a 
writer. 

There  being  many  words  in  Shakespeare  which  are 
grown  out  of  use  and  obsolete,  and  many  borrowed  from 
other  languages  which  are  not  enough  naturalised  or 
known  among  us,  a  glossary  is  added  at  the  end  of  the 
work,  for  the  explanation  of  all  those  terms  which  have 
hitherto  been  so  many  stumbling  blocks  to  the  generality 
of  readers;  and  where  there  is  any  obscurity  in  the 
'Act  III.  5. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  « 

text,  not  arising  from  the  words,  but  from  a  reference 
to  some  antiquated  customs  now  forgotten,  or  other 
causes  of  that  kind,  a  note  is  put  at  the  bottom  of  the 
page,  to  clear  up  the  difficulty. 

With  these  several  helps,  if  that  rich  vein  of  sense 
which  runs  through  the  works  of  this  author  can  be 
retrieved  in  every  part,  and  brought  to  appear  in  its 
true  light,  and  if  it  may  be  hoped,  without  presumption, 
that  this  is  here  effected,  they  who  love  and  admire  him 
will  receive  a  new  pleasure,  and  all  probably  will  be 
more  ready  to  join  in  doing  him  justice,  who  does  great 
honour  to  his  country  as  a  rare  and  perhaps  a  singular 
genius ;  one  who  hath  attained  a  high  degree  of  perfec- 
tion in  those  two  great  branches  of  poetry,  tragedy  and 
comedy,  different  as  they  are  in  their  natures  from  each 
other,  and  who  may  be  said  without  partiality  to  have 
equalled,  if  not  excelled^  in  both  kinds,  the  best  writers 
of  any  age  or  country,  who  have  thought  it  glory 
enough  to  distinguish  themselves  in  either. 

Since  therefore  other  nations  have  taken  care  to  dig- 
nify the  work  of  their  most  celebrated  poets  with  the 
fairest  impressions  beautified  with  the  ornaments  of 
sculpture,  well  may  our  Shakespeare  be  thought  to 
deserve  no  less  consideration;  and  as  a  fresh  acknowl- 
edgement hath  lately  been  paid  to  his  merit,  and  a  high 
regard  to  his  name  and  memory  by  erecting  his  statue 
at  a  public  expense,^  so  it  is  desired  that  this  new  edition 
of  his  works,  which  hath  cost  some  attention  and  care, 
may  be  looked  upon  as  another  small  monument  designed 
and  dedicated  to  his  honour. 

•The  monument  set  up  in  Poet's  Corner,  Westminster  Abbey, 
1741. 


90  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 


WILLIAM    WARBURTON 

1698-1779 

WILLIAM  WARBURTON  was  born, 
the  son  of  a  Newark  attorney,  De- 
cember 4,  1698,  and  died  Bishop  of 
Gloucester,  June  7,  1779.  He  was 
educated  at  various  small  schools,  and  in  1714* 
articled  in  an  attorney's  office.  Always  a  great 
reader,  he  included  theology  in  his  list  of  subjects, 
and  was  led  to  take  orders  in  the  English  Church 
(1723).  Awarded  the  M.A.  degree  by  Cambridge 
in  1728,  he  was  successively  curate,  vicar.  King's 
Chaplain,  Lincoln's  Inn  Preacher^  Prebendary,  Dean, 
and  finally  Bishop  of  Gloucesterc 

He  was  a  voluminous  and  vigorous  writer  mainly  in 
apologetics.  His  chief  work,  the  "  Divine  Legation  of 
Moses,"  was  severely  handled  by  Gibbon,  the  historian. 
It  was  a  brilliant,  scholarly,  but  paradoxical  and  futile 
mass  of  learning. 

He  and  Pope  formed  a  friendly  alliance,  although  the 
parson  had  at  one  time  roundly  abused  the  poet. 

In  1747  he  brought  out  a  new  edition  of  Shakespeare's 
works,  founded  upon,  although  not  bound  by.  Pope's 
text.  He  was  a  critic  of  the  slashing  order,  and  added 
little  of  value  to  the  fast  accumulating  commentaries. 
He  quarrelled  fiercely  with  Theobald,  accusing  him  of 
both  ignorance  and  lack  of  critical  ability.  Time,  how- 
ever, did  nX)t  justify  the  criticism.  Warburton's  Intro- 
duction is  interesting  reading. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  91 

WILLIAM   WARBURTON'S    PREFACE 

[Prefixed  to  an  octavo  edition  in  eight  volumes,  1747.] 

It  hath  been  no  unusual  thing  for  writers,  when  dissat- 
isfied with  the  patronage  or  judgment  of  their  own 
times,  to  appeal  to  posterity  for  a  fair  hearing.  Some 
have  even  thought  fit  to  apply  to  it  in  the  first  instance, 
and  to  decline  acquaintance  with  the  public  till  envy 
and  prejudice  had  quite  subsided.  But,  of  all  the 
trusters  to  futurity,  commend  me  to  the  author  of  the 
following  poems,  who  not  only  left  it  to  time  to  do  him 
justice  as  it  would,  but  to  find  him  out  as  it  could.  For 
what  between  too  great  attention  to  his  profit  as  a 
player,  and  too  little  to  his  reputation  as  a  poet,  his 
works,  left  to  the  care  of  door-keepers  and  prompters, 
hardly  escaped  the  common  fate  of  those  writings,  how 
good  soever,  which  are  abandoned  to  their  own  fortune, 
and  unprotected  by  party  or  cabal.  At  length,  indeed, 
they  struggled  into  light,  but  so  disguised  and  traves- 
tied that  no  classic  author,  after  having  run  ten  secular 
stages  through  the  blind  cloisters  of  monks  and  canons, 
ever  came  out  in  half  so  maimed  and  mangled  a  con- 
dition. But  for  a  full  account  of  his  disorders,  I  refer 
the  reader  to  the  excellent  discourse  which  follows,^  and 
turn  myself  to  consider  the  remedies  that  have  been 
applied  to  them. 

Shakespeare's  works,  when  they  escaped  the  players, 
did  not  fall  into  much  better  hands  when  they  came 
amongst  printers  and  booksellers ;  who,  to  say  the  truth, 
had  at  first  but  small  encouragement  for  putting  them 
into  a  better  condition.  The  stubborn  nonsense  with 
which  he  was  incrusted  occasioned  his  lying  long  neg- 
*  Pope's  Preface. 


92  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

lected  amongst  the  common'  lumber  of  the  stage.  And 
when  that  resistless  splendour  which  now  shoots  all 
around  him  had,  by  degrees,  broke  through  the  shell 
of  those  impurities,  his  dazzled  admirers  became  as  sud- 
denly insensible  to  the  extraneous  scurf  that  still  stuck 
upon  him  as  they  had  been  before  to  the  native  beauties 
that  lay  under  it.  So  that,  as  then  he  was  thought  not 
to  deserve  a  cure,  he  was  now  supposed  not  to  need 
any. 

His  growing  eminence,  however,  required  that  he  should 
be  used  with  ceremony,  and  he  soon  had  his  appoint- 
ment of  an  editor  in  form.  But  the  bookseller,  whose 
dealing  was  with  wits,  having  learned  of  them  I  know 
not  what  silly  maxim,  that  none  but  a  poet  should  pre- 
sume to  meddle  with  a  poet,  engaged  the  ingenious  Mr. 
Rowe  to  undertake  this  employment.  A  wit  indeed  he 
was,  but  so  utterly  unacquainted  with  the  whole  business 
of  criticism  that  he  did  not  even  collate  or  consult  the 
first  editions  of  the  work  he  undertook  to  publish,  but 
contented  himself  with  giving  us  a  meagre  account  of 
the  author's  life,  interlarded  with  some  commonplace 
scraps  from  his  writings.  The  truth  is,  Shakespeare's 
condition  was  yet  but  ill  understood.  The  nonsense, 
now,  by  consent,  conceived  for  his  own,  was  held  in  a 
kind  of  reverence  for  its  age  and  author,  and  thus  it 
continued  till  another  great  poet  broke  the  charm  by 
showing  us  that  the  higher  we  went,  the  less  of  it  was 
still  to  be  found. 

For  the  proprietors,  not  discouraged  by  their  first 
unsuccessful  effort,  in  due  time  made  a  second;  and, 
though  they  still  stuck  to  their  poets,  with  infinitely 
more  success  in  their  choice  of  Mr.  Pope,  who,  by  the 
mere  force  of  an  uncommon  genius,  without  any  par- 


k 


f^\M>crl    #^^'^»^c^     ^M^, 


&-^^ 

'^^v.,-^^ 


Cft^ 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  93 

ticular  study  or  profession  of  this  art,  discharged  the 
great  parts  of  it  so  well  as  to  make  his  edition  the  best 
foundation  for  all  further  improvements.  He  separated 
the  genuine  from  the  spurious  plays;  and  with  equal 
judgment,  though  not  always  with  the  same  success, 
attempted  to  clear  the  genuine  plays  from  the  inter- 
polated scenes.  He  then  consulted  the  old  editions,  and, 
by  a  careful  collation  of  them,  rectified  the  faulty,  and 
supplied  the  imperfect  reading  in  a  great  number  of 
places.  And  lastly,  in  an  admirable  preface,  hath  drawn 
a  general,  but  very  lively  sketch  of  Shakespeare's 
poetic  character,  and,  in  the  corrected  text,  marked  out 
those  peculiar  strokes  of  genius  which  were  most  proper 
to  support  and  illustrate  that  character.  Thus  far 
Mr.  Pope.  And  although  much  more  was  to  be  done 
before  Shakespeare  could  be  restored  to  himself  (such  as 
amending  the  corrupted  text  where  the  printed  books 
afford  no  assistance,  explaining  his  licentious  phraseol- 
ogy and  obscure  allusions,  and  illustrating  the  beauties 
of  his  poetry),  yet,  with  great  modesty  and  prudence, 
our  illustrious  author  left  this  to  the  critick  by  pro- 
fession. 

But  nothing  will  give  the  common  reader  a  better  idea 
of  the  value  of  Mr.  Pope's  edition  than  the  two  attempts 
which  have  been  since  made  by  Mr.  Theobald  and  Sir 
Thomas  Hanmer  in  opposition  to  it ;  who,  although  they 
concerned  themselves  only  in  the  first  of  these  three 
parts  of  criticism,  the  restoring  the  text  (without  any 
conception  of  the  second,  or  venturing  even  to  touch 
upon  the  third),  yet  succeeded  so  very  ill  in  it  that  they 
left  their  author  in  ten  times  a  worse  condition  than 
they  found  him.  But,  as  it  was  my  ill  fortune  to  have 
some  accidental  connections  with  these  two  gentlemen,  it 


94  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

will  be  incumbent  on  me  to  be  a  little  more  particular 
concerning  them. 

The  one  was  recommended  to  me  as  a  poor  man,  the 
other  as  a  poor  critic,  and  to  each  of  them,  at  different 
times,  I  communicated  a  great  number  of  observations 
which  they  managed,  as  they  saw  fit,  to  the  relief  of  their 
several  distresses.  As  to  Mr.  Theobald,  who  wanted 
money,  I  allowed  him  to  print  what  I  gave  him  for  his 
own  advantage,  and  he  allowed  himself  in  the  liberty  of 
taking  one  part  for  his  own,  and  sequestering  another 
for  the  benefit,  as  I  supposed,  of  some  future  edition. 
But,  as  to  the  Oxford  editor,  who  wanted  nothing  but 
what  he  might  very  well  be  without,  the  reputation  of 
a  critick,  I  could  not  so  easily  forgive  him  for  trafficking 
with  my  papers  without  my  knowledge;  and  when  that 
project  failed,  for  employing  a  number  of  my  con- 
jectures in  his  edition  against  my  express  desire  not  to 
have  that  honour  done  unto  me. 

Mr.  Theobald  was  naturally  turned  to  industry  and 
labour.  What  he  read  he  could  transcribe;  but  as  to 
what  he  thought,  if  ever  he  did  think,  he  could  but  ill 
express,  so  he  read  on,  and  by  that  means  got  a  charac- 
ter of  learning,  without  risquing  to  every  observer  the 
imputation  of  wanting  a  better  talent.  By  a  punc- 
tilious collation  of  the  old  books  he  corrected  what  was 
manifestly  wrong  in  the  latter  editions  by  what  was 
manifestly  right  in  the  earlier.  And  this  is  his  real 
merit,  and  the  whole  of  it.  For  where  the  phrase  was 
very  obsolete  or  licentious  In  the  common  books,  or  only 
slightly  corrupted  in  the  other,  he  wanted  sufficient 
knowledge  of  the  progress  and  various  stages  of  the 
English  tongue,  as  well  as  acquaintance  with  the  pecu- 
liarity of  Shakespeare's  language,  to  understand  what 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  95 

was  right;  nor  had  he  either  common  judgment  to  see, 
or  critical  sagacity  to  amend,  what  was  manifestly 
faulty.  Hence  he  generally  exerts  his  conjectural  tal- 
ent in  the  wrong  place;  he  tampers  with  what  is  found 
in  the  common  books,  and,  in  the  old  ones,  omits  all 
notice  of  variations,  the  sense  of  which  he  did  not  under- 
stand. 

How  the  Oxford  editor  came  to  think  himself  qualified 
for  this  office,  from  which  his  whole  course  of  life  had 
been  so  remote,  is  still  more  difficult  to  conceive.  For 
whatever  parts  he  might  have  either  of  genius  or  erudi- 
tion, he  was  absolutely  ignorant  of  the  art  of  criticism, 
as  well  as  of  the  poetry  of  that  time,  and  the  language 
of  his  author.  And  so  far  from  the  thought  of  exam- 
ining the  first  editions,  that  he  even  neglected  to  compare 
Mr.  Pope's,  from  which  he  printed  his  own,  with  Mr. 
Theobald's ;  whereby  he  lost  the  advantage  of  many  fine 
lines,  which  the  other  had  recovered  from  the  old 
quartos.  Where  he  trusts  to  his  own  sagacity,  in  what 
affects  the  sense,  his  conjectures  are  generally  absurd 
and  extravagant,  and  violating  every  rule  of  criticism. 
Though,  in  this  rage  of  correcting,  he  was  not  abso- 
lutely destitute  of  all  art.  For,  having  a  number  of 
my  conjectures  before  him,  he  took  as  many  of  them  as 
he  saw  fit  to  work  upon,  and  by  changing  them  to  some- 
thing he  thought  synonymous  or  similar  he  made  them 
his  own  and  so  became  a  critick  at  a  cheap  expense.  But 
how  well  he  hath  succeeded  in  this,  as  likewise  in  his  con- 
jectures which  are  properly  his  own,  will  be  seen  in  the 
course  of  my  remarks;  though,  as  he  hath  declined  to 
give  the  reasons  for  his  interpolations  he  hath  not 
afforded  me  so  fair  a  hold  of  him  as  Mr.  Theobald  hath 
done,  who  was  less  cautious.     But  his  principal  object 


96  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

was  to  reform  his  author's  numbers,  and  this,  which  he 
hath  done  on  every  occasion,  by  the  insertion  or  omis- 
sion of  a  set  of  harmless  unconceming  expletives,  makes 
up  the  gross  body  of  his  Innocent  corrections.  And  so, 
in  spite  of  that  extreme  negligence  In  numbers  which 
distinguishes  the  first  dramatick  writers,  he  hath  tricked 
up  the  old  bard,  from  head  to  foot,  in  all  the  finical 
exactness  of  a  modern  measurer  of  syllables. 

For  the  rest,  all  the  corrections  which  these  two  editors 
have  made  on  any  reasonable  foundation  are  here  ad- 
mitted into  the  text  and  carefully  assigned  to  their 
respective  authors,  a  piece  of  justice  which  the  Oxford 
editor  never  did,  and  which  the  other  was  not  always 
scrupulous  in  observing  towards  me.  To  conclude  "with 
them  in  a  word,  they  separately  possessed  those  two 
qualities  which,  more  than  any  other,  have  contributed 
to  bring  the  art  of  criticism  into  disrepute — dulness 
of  apprehension,  and  extravagance  of  conjecture. 

I  am  now  to  give  some  account  of  the  present  under- 
taking. For  as  to  all  those  things  which  have  been 
published  under  the  title  of  Essays,  Remarks,  Observa- 
tions, etc.,  on  Shakespeare  (if  you  except  some  critical 
notes  on  "Macbeth,"  given  as  a  specimen  of  a  pro- 
jected edition,  and  written,  as  appears,  by  a  man  of 
parts  and  genius),  the  rest  are  absolutely  below  a  seri- 
ous notice.^ 

The  whole  a  critick  can  do  for  an  author  who  deserves 
his  service  is  to  correct  the  faulty  text,  to  remark  the 
peculiarities  of  language,  to  illustrate  the  obscure  allu- 
sions, and  to  explain  the  beauties  and  defects  of  senti- 
ment or  composition.  And  surely,  if  ever  author  had 
a  claim  to  this  service,  it  was  our  Shakespeare;  who, 
'Dr.  Johnson. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  97 

widely  excelling  in  the  knowledge  of  human  nature,  hath 
given  to  his  infinitely  varied  pictures  of  it,  such  truth 
of  design,  such  force  of  drawing,  such  beauty  of  col- 
ouring, as  was  hardly  ever  equalled  by  any  writer, 
whether  his  aim  was  the  use,  or  only  the  entertainment 
of  mankind.  The  notes  in  this  edition,  therefore,  take 
in  the  whole  compass  of  criticism. 

I.  The  first  sort  is  employed  in  restoring  the  poet's  gen- 
uine text,  but  in  those  places  only  where  it  labours  with 
inextricable  nonsense ;  in  which,  how  much  soever  I  may 
have  given  scope  to  critical  conjecture,  where  the  old 
copies  failed  me,  I  have  indulged  nothing  to  fancy  or 
imagination,  but  have  religiously  observed  the  severe 
canons  of  literal  criticism,  as  may  be  seen  from  the 
reasons  accompanying  every  alteration  from  the  common 
text.  Nor  would  a  different  conduct  have  become  a 
critic  whose  greatest  attention,  in  this  part,  was  to  vin- 
dicate the  established  reading  from  interpolations  occa- 
sioned by  the  fanciful  extravagances  of  others.  I  once 
intended  to  have  given  the  reader  a  body  of  canons  for 
literal  criticism,  drawn  out  in  form,  as  well  such  as 
concern  the  art  in  general,  as  those  that  arise  from  the 
nature  and  circumstances  of  our  author's  works  in  par- 
ticular. And  this  for  two  reasons.  First,  to  give  the 
unlearned  reader  a  just  idea,  and  consequently  a  better 
opinion  of  the  art  of  criticism,  now  sunk  very  low  in  the 
popular  esteem,  by  the  attempts  of  some  who  would 
needs  exercise  it  without  either  natural  or  acquired 
talents,  and  by  the  ill  success  of  others  who  seemed  to 
have  lost  both  when  they  come  to  try  them  upon  English 
authors.  Secondly,  to  deter  the  unlearned  writer  from 
wantonly  trifling  with  an  art  he  is  a  stranger  to,  at  the 
expence  of  his  own  reputation  and  the  integrity  of  the 


98  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

text  of  established  authors.  But  these  uses  may  be 
well  supplied  by  what  is  occasionally  said  upon  the  sub- 
ject in  the  course  of  the  following  remarks. 

II.  The  second  sort  of  notes  consists  in  an  explanation 
of  the  author's  meaning  when  by  one  or  more  of  these 
causes  it  becomes  obscure:  either  from  a  licentious  use 
of  terms,  or  a  hard  or  ungrammatical  construction,  or 
lastly,  from  far-fetched  or  quaint  allusions. 

1.  This  licentious  use  of  words  is  almost  peculiar  to 
the  language  of  Shakespeare.  To  common  terms  he 
hath  affixed  meanings  of  his  own,  unauthorised  by  use, 
and  not  to  be  justified  by  analogy.  And  this  liberty  he 
hath  taken  with  the  noblest  parts  of  speech,  such  as 
mixed  modes,  which,  as  they  are  most  susceptible  of 
abuse,  so  that  abuse  much  hurts  the  clearness  of  the 
discourse.  The  criticks  (to  whom  Shakespeare's  licence 
was  still  as  much  a  secret  as  his  meaning  which  that 
licence  had  obscured)  fell  into  two  contrary  mistakes, 
but  equally  injurious  to  his  reputation  and  his  writings. 
For  some  of  them,  observing  a  darkness  that  pervades 
his  whole  expression,  have  censured  him  for  confusion 
of  ideas  and  inaccuracy  of  reasoning.  ''  In  the  neighing 
of  a  horse  (says  Rymer)  or  in  the  growling  of  a  mas- 
tiff, there  is-  a  meaning,  there  is  a  lively  expression,  and, 
I  may  say,  more  humanity  than  many  times  in  the  trag- 
ical flights  of  Shakespeare."  The  ignorance  of  which 
censure  is  of  a  piece  with  its  brutality.  The  truth  is, 
no  one  thought  clearer,  or  argued  morfe  closely,  than 
this  immortal  bard.  But  his  superiority  of  genius  less 
needing  the  intervention  of  words  in  the  act  of  think- 
ing, when  he  came  to  draw  out  his  contemplations  into 
discourse,  he  took  up  (as  he  was  hurried  on  by  the 
torrent  of  his  matter)  with  the  first  words  that  lay  in 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  99 

his  way;  and  if,  amongst  these,  there  were  two  mixed 
modes  that  had  but  a  principal  idea  in  common,  it  was 
enough  for  him.  He  regarded  them  as  synonymous, 
and  would  use  the  one  for  the  other  without  fear  or 
scruple.  Again,  there  have  been  others,  such  as  the 
two  last  editors,  who  have  fallen  into  a  contrary  ex- 
treme, and  regarded  Shakespeare's  anomalies  (as  we 
may  call  them)  amongst  the  corruptions  of  his  text; 
which,  therefore,  they  have  cashiered  in  great  numbers 
to  make  room  for  a  jargon  of  their  own.  This  hath 
put  me  to  additional  trouble,  for  I  had  not  only  their 
interpolations  to  throw  out  again,  but  the  genuine  text 
to  replace  and  establish  in  its  stead,  which,  in  many 
cases  could  not  be  done  without  showing  the  peculiar 
sense  of  the  terms  and  explaining  the  causes  which  led 
the  poet  to  so  perverse  a  use  of  them.  I  had  it  once, 
indeed,  in  my  design,  to  give  a  general  alphabetic  gloss- 
ary of  those  terms ;  but  as  each  of  them  is  explained  in 
its  proper  place,  there  seems  the  less  occasion  for  such 
an  index. 

2.  The  poet's  hard  and  unnatural  construction  had 
a  different  original.  This  was  the  effect  of  mistaken 
art  and  design.  The  publick  taste  was  in  its  infancy, 
and  delighted  (as  it  always  does  during  this  state)  in 
the  high  and  tiargid ;  which  leads  the  writer  to  disguise 
a  vulgar  expression  with  hard  and  forced  construction, 
whereby  the  sentence  frequently  becomes  cloudy  and 
dark.  Here  his  criticks  show  their  modesty,  and  leave 
him  to  himself.  For  the  arbitrary  change  of  a  word 
doth  little  towards  dispelling  an  obscurity  that  ariseth, 
not  from  the  licentious  use  of  a  single  term,  but  from 
the  unnatural  arrangement  of  a  whole  sentence.  And 
they  risqued  nothing  by  their  silence.     For  Shakespeare 


100  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

was  too  clear  in  fame  to  be  suspected  of  a  want  of 
meaning,  and  too  high  in  fashion  for  anyone  to  own 
he  needed  a  critick  to  find  it  out.  Not  but,  in  his  best 
works,  we  must  allow,  he  is  often  so  natural  and  flowing, 
so  pure  and  correct,  that  he  is  even  a  model  for  style 
and  language. 

3.  As  to  his  far-fetched  and  quaint  'allusions,  these 
are  often  a  cover  to  common  thoughts;  just  as  his 
hard  construction  is  to  common  expression.  When  they 
are  not  so,  the  explanation  of  them  has  this  further 
advantage  that,  in  clearing  the  obscurity,  you  fre- 
quently discover  some  latent  conceit  not  unworthy  of 
his  genius. 

III.  The  third  and  last  sort  of  notes  is  concerned  in 
a  critical  explanation  of  the  author's  beauties  and  de- 
fects; but  chiefly  of  his  beauties,  whether  in  style, 
thought,  sentiment,  character,  or  composition.  An  odd 
humour  of  finding  fault  hath  long  prevailed  amongst 
the  criticks,  as  if  nothing  were  worth  remarking  that 
did  not  at  the  same  time  deserve  to  be  reproved. 
Whereas  the  publick  judgment  hath  less  need  to  be 
assisted  in  what  it  shall  reject  than  in  what  it  ought  to 
prize,  men  being  generally  more  ready  at  spying  faults 
than  in  discovering  beauties.  Nor  is  the  value  they 
set  upon  a  work  a  certain  proof  that  they  understand 
it.  For  it  is  ever  seen  that  half  a  dozen  voices  of  credit 
give  the  lead,  and  if  the  publick  chance  to  be  in  good 
humour,  or  the  author  much  in  their  favour,  the  people 
are  sure  to  follow.  Hence  it  is  that  the  true  critick  hath 
so  frequently  attached  himself  to  works  of  established 
reputation :  not  to  teach  the  world  to  admire,  which,  in 
those  circumstances,  to  say  the  truth,  they  are  apt 
enough  to  do  of  themselves,  but  to  teach  them  how 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  101 

with  reason  to  admire ;  no  easy  matter,  I  will  assure  you, 
on  the  subject  in  question,  for  though  it  be  very  true, 
as  Mr.  Pope  hath  observed,  that  Shakespeare  is  the 
fairest  and  fullest  subject  for  criticism,  yet  it  is  not 
such  a  sort  of  criticism  as  may  be  raised  mechanically 
on  the  rules  which  Dacier,  Rapin,  and  Bossu  have  col- 
lected from  antiquity,  and  of  which  such  kind  of  writers 
as  Rymer,  Gildon,  Dennis,  and  Oldmixon  have  only 
gathered  and  chewed  the  husks.  Nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  it  to  be  formed  on  the  plan  of  those  crude  and 
superficial  judgments  on  books  and  things  with  which 
a  certain  celebrated  paper  so  much  abounds  ;^  too  good, 
indeed,  to  be  named  with  the  writers  last  mentioned, 
but  being  unluckily  mistaken  for  a  model,  because  it 
was  an  original,  it  hath  given  rise  to  a  deluge  of  the 
worst  sort  of  critical  jargon — ^I  mean  that  which  looks 
most  like  sense.  But  the  kind  of  criticism  here  re- 
quired is  such  *SiS  judgeth  our  author  by  those  only 
Jaws  and  principles  on  which  he  wrote,  nature  and  com- 
mon-sense. 

Our  observations,  therefore,  being  thus  extensive,  will, 
I  presume,  enable  the  reader  to  form  a  right  judgment 
of  this  favourite  poet  without  drawing  out  his  charac- 
ter, as  was  once  intended,  in  a  continued  discourse. 

These,  such  as  they  are,  were  among  my  younger 
amusements  when,  many  years  ago,  I  used  to  turn  over 
these  sort  of  writers  to  unbend  myself  from  more  seri- 
ous applications ;  and  what  certainly  the  publick  at  this 
time  of  day  had  never  been  troubled  with,  but  for  the 
conduct  of  the  two  last  editors,  and  the  persuasion  of 
dear  Mr.  Pope,  whose  memory  and  name, 

"...  semper  acerbum. 

Semper  honoratum  (sic  Di  voluistis)  habebo." 

•  The  Spectator. 


10^  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

He  was  desirous  I  should  give  a  new  edition  of  this  poet, 
as  he  thought  it  might  contribute  to  put  a  stop  to  a 
prevailing  folly  of  altering  the  text  of  celebrated 
authors  without  talents  or  judgment.  And  he  was  will- 
ing that  his  edition  should  be  melted  down  into  mine, 
as  it  would,  he  said,  afford  him  (so  great  is  the  modesty 
of  an  ingenuous  temper)  a  fit  opportunity  of  confessing 
his  mistakes.  In  memory  of  our  friendship,  I  have 
therefore  made  It  our  joint  edition.  His  admirable 
preface  is  here  added;  all  his  notes  are  given,  with 
his  name  annexed;  the  scenes  are  divided  according  to 
his  regulation;  and  the  most  beautiful  passages  dis- 
tinguished, as  in  his  book,  with  inverted  commas.  In 
imitation  of  him,  I  have  done  the  same  by  as 
many  others  as  I  thought  most  deserving  of  the 
reader's  attention,  and  have  marked  them  with  double 
commas. 

If,  from  all  this,  Shakespeare  or  good  letters  have 
received  any  advantage,  and  the  publick  any  benefit  or 
entertainment,  the  thanks  are  due  to  the  proprietors, 
who  have  been  at  the  expence  of  procuring  this  edition. 
And  I  should  be  unjust  to  several  deserving  men  of  a 
reputable  and  useful  profession  if  I  did  not,  on  this 
occasion,  acknowledge  the  fair  dealing  I  have  always 
found  amongst  them,  and  profess  my  sense  of  the  unjust 
prejudice  which  lies  against  them;  whereby  they  have 
been  hitherto  unable  to  procure  that  security  for  their 
property  which  they  see  the  rest  of  their  fellow-citizens 
enjoy;  a  prejudice  in  part  arising  from  the  frequent 
piracies  (as  they  are  called)  committed  by  members  of 
their  own  body.  But  such  kind  of  members  no  body  is 
without.  And  It  would  be  hard  that  this  should  be 
turned  to  the  discredit  of  the  honest  part  of  the  pro- 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  103 

fession,  who  suffer  more  from  such  injuries  than  any 
other  men.  It  hath  in  part,  too,  arisen  from  the  clam- 
ours of  profligate  scribblers,  ever  ready  for  a  piece  of 
money,  to  prostitute  their  bad  sense  for  or  against  any 
cause,  profane  or  sacred,  or  in  any  scandal,  publick  or 
private;  these  meeting  with  little  encouragement  from 
men  of  account  In  the  trade  (who,  even  in  this  enlight- 
ened age,  are  not  the  very  worst  judges  or  rewarders  of 
merit),  apply  themselves  to  people  of  condition,  and 
support  their  Importunities  by  false  complaints  against 
booksellers. 

But  I  should  now,  perhaps,  rather  think  of  my  own 
apology  than  busy  myself  in  the  defence  of  others.  I 
shall  have  some  Tartuffe  ready  on  the  first  appearance 
of  this  edition  to  call  out  again  and  tell  me  that  I  suffer 
myself  to  be  wholly  diverted  from  my  purpose  by  these 
matters  less  suitable  to  my  clerical  profession.  "  Well, 
but  (says  a  friend)  why  not  take  so  candid  an  Intima- 
tion in  good  part?  Withdraw  yourself  again,  as  you 
are  bid,  into  the  clerical  pale;  examine  the  records  of 
sacred  and  profane  antiquity,  and  on  them  erect  a 
work  to  the  confusion  of  infidelity."  Why,  I  have 
done  all  this,  and  more;  and  hear  now  what  the  same 
men  have  said  to  it.  They  tell  me,  I  have  wrote  to  the 
wrong  and  injury  of  religion,  and  furnished  out  more 
handles  for  unbelievers.  "  Oh !  now  the  secret  is  out ;  and 
you  may  have  your  pardon,  I  find,  upon  easier  terms. 
It  is  only  to  write  no  more."  Good  gentlemen!  and 
shall  I  not  oblige  them?  They  would  gladly  obstruct 
my  way  to  those  things  which  every  man  who  endeavours 
well  in  his  profession,  must  needs  think  he  has  some 
claim  to  when  he  sees  them  given  to  those  who  never 
did  endeavour,  at  the  same  time  that  they  would  deter 


104  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

me  from  taking  those  advantages  which  letters  enable 
me  to  procure  for  myself.  If  then  I  am  to  write  no 
more  (though  as  much  out  of  my  profession  as  they  may 
please  to  represent  this  work,  I  suspect  their  modesty 
would  not  insist  on  a  scrutiny  of  our  several  applica- 
tions of  this  profane  profit  and  their  purer  gains),  if,  I 
say,  I  am  to  write  no  more,  let  me  at  least  give  the  pub- 
lick,  who  have  a  better  pretence  to  demand  it  of  me,  some 
reason  for  my  presenting  them  with  these  amusements ; 
which,  if  I  am  not  much  mistaken,  may  be  excused  by 
the  best  and  fairest  examples ;  and,  what  is  more,  may 
be  justified  on  the  surer  reason  of  things. 

The  great  Saint  Chrysostom,  a  name  consecrated  to 
immortality  by  his  virtue  and  eloquence,  is  known  to 
have  been  so  fond  of  Aristophanes  as  to  wake  with  him 
at  his  studies,  and  to  sleep  with  him  under  his  pillow; 
and  I  never  heard  that  this  was  objected  either  to  his 
piety  or  his  preaching,  not  even  in  those  times  of  pure 
zeal  and  primitive  religion.  Yet,  in  respect  of  Shake- 
speare's great  sense,  Aristophanes'  best  wit  is  but  buf- 
foonery; and  in  comparison  of  Aristophanes'  freedoms, 
Shakespeare  writes  with  the  purity  of  a  vestal.  But 
they  will  say,  St.  Chrysostom  contracted  a  fondness 
for  the  comick  poet  for  the  sake  of  his  Greek.  To  this, 
indeed,  I  have  nothing  to  reply.  Far  be  it  from  me  to 
insinuate  so  unscholar-like  a  thing,  as  if  we  had  the 
same  use  for  good  English  that  a  Greek  had  for  his 
Attick  elegance.  Critick  Kuster,  in  a  taste  and  language 
peculiar  to  grammarians  of  a  certain  order,  hath  de- 
creed that  the  history  and  chronology  of  Greek  words 
is  the  most  solid  entertainment  of  a  man  of  letters. 

I  fly  then  to  a  higher  example,  much  nearer  home,  and 
still  more  in  point,  the  famous  university  of  Oxford. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  105 

This  illustrious  body,  which  hath  long  so  justly  held, 
and  with  such  equity  dispensed  the  chief  honours  of 
the  learned  world,  thought  good  letters  so  much  inter- 
ested in  correct  editions  of  the  best  English  writers,  that 
they  very  lately  in  their  publick  capacity  undertook  one 
of  this  very  author  by  subscription.  And  if  the  editor  * 
hath  not  discharged  his  task  with  suitable  abilities  for 
one  so  much  honoured  by  them,  this  was  not  their  fault, 
but  his,  who  thrust  himself  into  the  employment.  After 
such  an  example,  it  would  be  weakening  any  defence  to 
seek  further  for  authorities.  All  that  can  be  now 
decently  urged  is  the  reason  of  the  thing;  and  this  I 
shall  do,  more  for  the  sake  of  that  truly  venerable  body 
than  my  own. 

Of  all  the  literary  exercitations  of  speculative  men, 
whether  designed  for  the  use  or  entertainment  of  the 
world,  there  are  none  of  so  much  importance  or  what 
are  more  our  immediate  concern  than  those  which  let 
us  into  the  knowledge  of  our  nature.  Others  may  exer- 
cise the  reason,  or  amuse  the  imagination,  but  these  only 
can  improve  the  heart  and  form  the  human  mind  to 
wisdom.  Now,  in  this  science,  our  Shakespeare  is  con- 
fessed to  occupy  the  foremost  place,  whether  we  con- 
sider the  amazing  sagacity  with  which  he  investigates 
every  hidden  spring  and  wheel  of  human  action,  or  his 
happy  manner  of  communicating  this  knowledge,  in  the 
just  and  living  paintings  which  he  has  given  us  of  all 
our  passions,  appetites  and  pursuits.  These  afford  a 
lesson  which  can  never  be  too  often  repeated,  or  too  con- 
stantly inculcated,  and  to  engage  the  reader's  due  atten- 
tion to  it  hath  been  one  of  the  principal  objects  of  this 
edition. 

*Hanmer's  edition  was  issued  by  the  Oxford  University  Press. 


106  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

As  this  science  (whatever  profound  philosophers  may 
think)  is,  to  the  rest,  in  things ;  so,  in  words  (whatever 
supercilious  pedants  may  talk),  every  one's  mother 
tongue  is  to  all  other  languages.  This  hath  still  been 
the  sentiment  of  nature  and  true  wisdom.  Hence,  the 
greatest  men  of  antiquity  never  thought  themselves  bet- 
ter employed  than  in  cultivating  their  own  country 
idiom.  So,  Lycurgus  did  honour  to  Sparta  in  giving 
the  first  complete  edition  of  Homer ;  and  Cicero  to  Rome, 
in  correcting  the  works  of  Lucretius.  Nor  do  we  want 
examples  of  the  same  good  sense  in  modern  times,  even 
amidst  the  cruel  inroads  that  art  and  fashion  have  made 
upon  nature  and  the  simplicity  of  wisdom.  Menage, 
the  greatest  name  in  France  for  all  kinds  of  philologick 
learning,  prided  himself  in  writing  critical  notes  on 
their  best  lyrick  poet,  Malherbe ;  and  our  greater  Selden, 
when  he  thought  it  might  reflect  credit  on  his  country, 
did  not  disdain  even  to  comment  a  very  ordinary  poet, 
one  Michael  Drayton.  But  the  English  tongue,  at  this 
juncture,  deserves  and  demands  our  particular  regard. 
It  hath,  by  means  of  the  many  excellent  works  of  dif- 
ferent kinds  composed  in  it,  engaged  the  notice  and 
became  the  study  of  almost  every  curious  and  learned 
foreigner,  so  as  to  be  thought  even  a  part  of  literary 
accomplishment.  This  must  needs  make  it  deserving  of 
a  critical  attention ;  and  its  being  yet  destitute  of  a  test 
or  standard  to  apply  to  in  cases  of  doubt  or  difficulty, 
shows  how  much  it  wants  that  attention.  For  we  have 
neither  Grammar  nor  Dictionary,  neither  chart  nor  com- 
pass, to  guide  us  through  this  wide  sea  of  words.  And 
indeed,  how  should  we?  since  both  are  to  be  composed 
and  finished  on  the  authority  of  our  best  established 
writers.     But  their  authority  can  be  of  little  use  till  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  107 

text  hath  been  correctly  settled,  and  the  phraseology 
critically  examined.  As,  then,  by  these  aids,  a  Gram- 
mar and  Dictionary  planned  upon  the  best  rules  of 
logick  and  philosophy  (and  none  but  such  will  deserve 
the  name)  are  to  be  procured,  the  forwarding  of  this 
will  be  a  general  concern;  for,  as  Quintillian  observes, 
"  Verborum  proprietas  ac  differentia  omnibus,  qui  ser- 
monem  cures  habent,  debet  esse  communis  "  By  this 
way,  the  Italians  have  brought  their  tongue  to  a  degree 
of  purity  and  stability  which  no  living  language  ever 
attained  unto  before.  It  is  with  pleasure  I  observe 
that  these  things  now  begin  to  be  understood  among 
ourselves,  and  that  I  can  acquaint  the  publick  we  may 
soon  expect  very  elegant  editions  of  Fletcher  and  Mil- 
ton's "  Paradise  Lost,"  from  gentlemen  of  distinguished 
abilities  and  learning.  But  this  interval  of  good  sense, 
as  it  may  be  short,  is  indeed  but  new.  For  I  remember 
to  have  heard  of  a  very  learned  man  who,  not  long  since, 
formed  a  design  of  giving  a  more  correct  edition  of 
Spenser,  and,  without  doubt,  would  have  performed  it 
well;  but  he  was  dissuaded  from  his  purpose  by  his 
friends,  as  beneath  the  dignity  of  a  professor  of  the 
occult  sciences.  Yet  these  very  friends,  I  suppose,  would 
have  thought  it  added  lustre  to  his  high  station  to  have 
new-furnished  out  some  dull  northern  chronicle,  or  dark 
Sibylline  aenigma.  But  let  it  not  be  thought  that  what 
is  here  said  insinuates  anything  to  the  discredit  of 
Greek  and  Latin  criticism.  If  the  follies  of  particular 
men  were  sufficient  to  bring  any  branch  of  learning  into 
disrepute,  I  do  not  know  any  that  would  stand  in  a 
worse  situation  than  that  for  which  I  now  apologise. 
For  I  hardly  think  there  ever  appeared,  in  any  learned 
language,  so  execrable  a  heap  of  nonsense,  under  the 


108  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

name  of  commentaries,  as  hath  been  lately  given  us  on  a 
certain  satyrick  poet,  of  the  past  age,  by  his  editor  and 
coadjutor.^ 

I  am  sensible  how  unjustly  the  very  best  classical  crit- 
icks  have  been  treated.  It  is  said  that  our  great  philos- 
opher ^  spoke  with  much  contempt  of  the  two  finest 
scholars  of  this  age,  Dr.  Bentley  and  Bishop  Hare,  for 
squabbling,  as  he  expressed  it,  about  an  old  play-book; 
meaning,  I  suppose,  Terence's  comedies.  But  this  story 
is  unworthy  of  him,  though  well  enough  suiting  the 
fanatick  turn  of  the  wild  writer  that  relates  it.  Such 
censures  are  amongst  the  follies  of  men  immoderately 
given  over  to  one  science,  and  ignorantly  undervaluing 
all  the  rest.  Those  learned  criticks  might,  and  perhaps 
did,  laugh  in  their  turn  (though  still,  sure,  with  the 
same  indecency  and  indiscretion)  at  that  incomparable 
man,  for  wearing  out  a  long  life  in  poring  through  a 
telescope.  Indeed,  the  weaknesses  of  such  are  to  be 
mentioned  with  reverence.  But  who  can  bear,  without 
indignation,  the  fashionable  cant  of  every  trifling 
writer,  whose  insipidity  passes,  with  himself,  for  polite- 
ness, for  pretending  to  be  shocked,  forsooth,  with  the 
rude  and  savage  air  of  vulgar  criticks ;  meaning  such  as 
Muretus,  Scaliger,  Casaubon,  Salmasius,  Spanheim, 
Bentley!  When,  had  it  not  been  for  the  deathless 
labours  of  such  as  these,  the  western  world,  at  the  re- 
vival of  letters,  had  soon  fallen  back  again  into  a  state 
of  ignorance  and  barbarity  as  deplorable  as  that  from 
which  Providence  had  just  redeemed  it. 

To  conclude  with  an  observation  of  a  fine  writer  and 

"Reed  notes  this  reference  as  belonging  to  Dr.  Grey's  edition  of 
Hudibras,  1744. 
•Sir  Isaac  Newton. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  109 

great  philosopher  of  our  own,  which  I  would  gladly 

bind,  though  with  all  honour,  as  a  phylactery,  on  the 

brow  of  every  awful  grammarian,  to  teach  him  at  once 

the  use  and  limits  of  his  art:  Words  are  the  money  of 

foolsy  and  the  counters  of  wise  men? 

'"For  words  are  wise  men's  counters,— they  do  but  reckon  by 
them;  but  they  are  the  money  of  fools."— TAo*.  Hobbes,  "The 
Leviathan."    Part  1.,  chap,  iv. 


110  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 


SAMUEL    JOHNSON 

1709-1784 

JOHNSON,  the  great  leviathan  of  English 
letters  in  the  eighteenth  century,  lexicog- 
rapher and  author  of  "  Rasselas,"  was  bom 
September  18,  1709,  the  son  of  a  bookseller  of 
moderate  means,  in  Lichfield,  and  died  full  of  honours 
in  London,  December  13,  1784. 

Prepared  at  various  small  schools,  he  entered  Pem- 
broke College  at  Oxford,  and  left  after  a  stay  of  nearly 
three  years  without  a  degree.  Married  to  a  woman 
twenty  years  older  than  himself,  a  widow,  Mrs.  Porter, 
he  tried  school-keeping  and  failed.  In  1737  he  emi- 
grated from  the  provinces  to  London,  and  beginning 
as  a  contributor  to  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine," 
embarked  upon  his  half  century  career  as  the  "  great 
Cham  "  of  English  literature. 

Passing  over  the  works  which  have  given  him  his  fame, 
we  note  that  his  first  contribution  to  the  elucidation  of 
Shakespeare  was  a  pamphlet,  "  Miscellaneous  Observa- 
tions on  the  Tragedy  of  Macbeth"  (1745).  It  was  not 
until  twenty  years  later  (1765),  that  his  edition  of  the 
Plays,  in  association  with  George  Steevens,  was  pub- 
lished. The  most  valuable  part  of  this  work  was  the 
Introduction,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  most  famous  of  all 
contributions  of  a  like  character.  His  textual  criticism 
did  not  add  much  to  his  reputation.  His  Shakespearean 
work  was  but  a  by-product  of  his  most  fruitful  genius. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  111 

DR.  SAMUEL  JOHNSON'S  PREFACE. 

[Prefixed  to  octavo  edition  in  eight  volumes,  1765.] 

That  praises  are  without  reason  lavished  on  the  dead, 
and  that  the  honours  due  only  to  excellence  are  paid  to 
antiquity,  is  a  complaint  likely  to  be  always  continued 
by  those,  who,  being  able  to  add  nothing  to  truth,  hope 
for  eminence  from  the  heresies  of  paradox;  or  those, 
who,  being  forced  by  disappointment  upon  consolatory 
expedients,  are  willing  to  hope  from  posterity  what  the 
present  age  refuses,  and  flatter  themselves  that  the 
regard  which  is  yet  denied  by  envy,  will  be  at  last 
bestowed  by  time. 

Antiquity,  like  every  other  quality  that  attracts  the 
notice  of  mankind,  has  undoubtedly  votaries  that  rever- 
ence it,  not  from  reason,  but  from  prejudice.  Some  seem 
to  admire  indiscriminately  whatever  has  been  long  pre- 
served, without  considering  that  time  has  sometimes  co- 
operated with  chance;  all  perhaps  are  more  willing  to 
honour  past  than  present  excellence ;  and  the  mind  con- 
templates genius  through  the  shades  of  age,  as  the  eye 
surveys  the  sun  through  artificial  opacity.  The  great 
contention  of  criticism  is  to  find  the  faults  of  the 
moderns,  and  the  beauties  of  the  ancients.  While  an 
author  is  yet  living,  we  estimate  his  powers  by  his  worst 
performance ;  and  when  he  is  dead,  we  rate  them  by  his 
best. 

To  works,  however,  of  which  the  excellence  is  not 
absolute  and  definite,  but  gradual  and  comparative ;  to 
works  not  raised  upon  principles  demonstrative  and 
scientifick,  but  appealing  wholly  to  observation  and 
experience,  no  other  test  can  be  applied  than  length  of 
duration  and  continuance  of  esteem.     What  mankind 


112  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

have  long  possessed  they  have  often  examined  and  com- 
pared, and  if  they  persist  to  value  the  possession,  it  is 
because  frequent  comparisons  have  confirmed  opinion  in 
its  favour.  As  among  the  works  of  nature  no  man  can 
properly  call  a  river  deep,  or  a  mountain  high,  without 
the  knowledge  of  many  mountains,  and  many  rivers ;  so 
in  the  production  of  genius,  nothing  can  be  styled 
excellent  till  it  has  been  compared  with  other  works  of 
the  same  kind.  Demonstration  immediately  displays  its 
power,  and  has  nothing  to  hope  or  fear  from  the  flux  of 
years;  but  works  tentative  and  experimental  must  be 
estimated  by  their  proportion  to  the  general  and  col- 
lective ability  of  man,  as  it  is  discovered  in  a  long 
succession  of  endeavours.  Of  the  first  building  that 
was  raised,  it  might  be  with  certainty  determined  that 
it  was  round  or  square ;  but  whether  it  was  spacious  or 
lofty  must  have  been  referred  to  time.  The  Pythagorean 
scale  of  numbers  was  at  once  discovered  to  be  perfect; 
but  the  poems  of  Homer  we  yet  know  not  to  transcend 
the  common  limits  of  human  intelligence,  but  by 
remarking,  that  nation  after  nation,  and  century  after 
century,  has  been  able  to  do  little  more  than  transpose 
his  incidents,  new  name  his  characters,  and  paraphrase 
his  sentiments. 

The  reverence  due  to  writings  that  have  long  subsisted, 
arises  therefore,  not  from  any  credulous  confidence  in 
the  superior  wisdom  of  past  pages,  or  gloomy  per- 
suasions of  the  degeneracy  of  mankind,  but  is  the 
consequence  of  acknowledged  and  indubitable  positions, 
that  what  has  been  longest  known  has  been  most 
considered,  and  what  is  most  considered  is  best 
understood. 

The   poet,    of  whose  works    I  have   undertaken  the 


SAMUEL  JOHNSON 


OF    THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  113 

revision,  may  now  begin  to  assume  the  dignity  of  an 
ancient,  and  claim  the  privilege  of  an  established  fame 
and  prescriptive  veneration.  He  has  long  outlived  his 
century,  the  term  commonly  fixed  as  the  test  of  literary 
merit.  Whatever  advantages  he  might  once  derive  from 
personal  allusions,  local  customs,  or  temporary  opin- 
ions, have  for  many  years  been  lost;  and  every  topick 
of  merriment  or  motive  of  sorrow,  which  the  modes  of 
artificial  life  afforded  him,  now  only  obscure  the  scenes 
which  they  once  illuminated.  The  effects  of  favour  and 
competition  are  at  an  end;  the  tradition  of  his  friend- 
ships and  his  enmities  has  perished;  his  works  support 
no  opinion  with  arguments,  nor  supply  any  faction  with 
invectives ;  they  can  neither  indulge  vanity,  nor  gratify 
malignity;  but  are  read  without  any  other  reason  than 
the  desire  of  pleasure,  and  are  therefore  praised  only  as 
pleasure  is  obtained ;  yet,  thus  unassisted  by  interest  or 
passion,  they  have  past  through  variations  of  taste  and 
changes  of  manners,  and,  as  they  devolved  from  one 
generation  to  another,  have  received  new  honours  at 
every  transmission. 

But  because  human  judgment,  though  it  be  gradually 
gaining  upon  certainty,  never  becomes  infallible;  and 
approbation,  though  long  continued,  may  yet  be  only 
the  approbation  of  prejudice  or  fashion ;  it  is  proper  to 
inquire,  by  what  peculiarities  of  excellence  Shakespeare 
has  gained  and  kept  the  favour  of  his  countrymen. 

Nothing  can  please  many,  and  please  long,  but  just 
representations  of  general  nature.  Particular  manners 
can  be  known  to  few,  and  therefore  few  only  can  judge 
how  nearly  they  are  copied.  The  irregular  combinations 
of  fanciful  invention  may  delight  awhile,  by  that  novelty 
of  which  the  common  satiety  of  life  sends  us  all  in  quest ; 


114  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

the  pleasures  of  sudden  wonder  are  soon  exhausted,  and 
the  mind  can  only  repose  on  the  stability  of  truth. 

Shakespeare  is  above  all  writers,  at  least  above  all 
modem  writers,  the  poet  of  nature ;  the  poet  that  holds 
up  to  his  readers  a  faithful  mirror  of  manners  and  of 
life.  His  characters  are  not  modified  by  the  customs 
of  particular  places,  unpractised  by  the  rest  of  the 
world,  by  the  peculiarities  of  studies  or  professions, 
which  can  operate  but  upon  small  numbers;  or  by  the 
accidents  of  transient  fashions  or  temporary  opinions: 
they  are  the  genuine  progeny  of  common  humanity, 
such  as  the  world  will  always  supply,  and  observation 
will  always  find.  His  persons  act  and  speak  by  the 
influence  of  those  general  passions  and  principles  by 
which  all  minds  are  agitated,  and  the  whole  system  of 
life  is  continued  in  motion.  In  the  writings  of  other 
poets  a  character  is  too  often  an  individual ;  in  those  of 
Shakespeare  it  is  commonly  a  species. 

It  is  from  this  wide  extension  of  design  that  so  much 
instruction  is  derived.  iLis  this  which  fills  the  plays  of 
Shakespeare  with  practical  axioms  and  domestick 
wisdom.  It  was  said  of  Euripides,  that  every  verse  was 
a  precept;  and  it  may  be  said  of  Shakespeare,  that 
from  his  works  may  be  collected  a  system  of  civil  and 
economical  prudence.  Yet  his  real  power  is  not  shown 
in  the  splendour  of  particular  passages,  but  by  the 
progress  of  his  fable,  and  the  tenor  of  his  dialogue ;  and 
he  that  tries  to  recommend  him  by  select  quotations,  will 
succeed  like  the  pedant  in  Hierocles,  who,  when  he 
J  ofl^ered  his  house  to  sale,  carried  a  brick  in  his  pocket 
as  a  specimen. 

It  will  not  easily  be  imagined  how  much  Shakespeare 
excels  in  accommodating  his  sentiments  to  real  life,  but 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  115 

by  comparing  him  with  other  authors.  It  was  observed 
of  the  ancient  schools  of  declamation,  that  the  more 
diligently  they  were  frequented,  the  more  was  the 
student  disqualified  for  the  world,  because  he  found 
nothing  there  which  he  should  ever  meet  in  any  other 
place.  The  same  remark  may  be  applied  to  every  stage 
but  that  of  Shakespeare.  The  theatre,  when  it  is  under 
any  other  direction,  is  peopled  by  such  characters  as 
were  never  seen,  conversing  in  a  language  which  was 
never  heard,  upon  topicks  which  will  never  arise  in  the 
commerce  of  mankind.  But  the  dialogue  of  this  author 
is  often  so  evidently  determined  by  the  incident  which 
produces  it,  and  is  pursued  with  so  much  ease  and  sim- 
plicity, that  it  seems  scarcely  to  claim  the  merit  of 
fiction,  but  to  have  been  gleaned  by  diligent  selection 
out  of  common  conversation,  and  common  occur- 
rences. 

Upon  every  other  stage  the  universal  agent  is  love,  by 
whose  power  all  good  and  evil  is  distributed,  and  every 
action  quickened  or  retarded.  To  bring  a  lover,  a  lady, 
and  a  rival  into  the  fable;  to  entangle  them  in  contra- 
dictory obligations,  perplex  them  with  oppositions  of 
interest,  and  harass  them  with  violence  of  desires  incon- 
sistent with  each  other;  to  make  them  meet  in  rapture, 
and  part  in  agony ;  to  fill  their  mouths  with  hyperbolical 
joy  and  outrageous  sorrow;  to  distress  them  as  nothing 
human  ever  was  distressed;  to  deliver  them  as  nothing 
human  ever  was  delivered,  is  the  business  of  a  modern 
dramatist.  For  this,  probability  is  violated,  life  is 
misrepresented,  and  language  is  depraved.  But  love  is 
only  one  of  many  passions,  and  as  it  has  no  great 
influence  upon  the  sum  of  life,  it  has  little  operation  in 
the  dramas  of  a  poet,  who  caught  his  ideas  from  the 


116  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

living  world,  and  exhibited  only  what  he  saw  before  him. 
He  knew,  that  any  other  passion,  as  it  was  regular  or 
^  exorbitant,  was  a  cause  of  happiness  or  calamity. 

Characters  thus  ample  and  general  were  not  easily 
discriminated  and  preserved,  yet  perhaps  no  poet  ever 
kept  his  personages  more  distinct  from  each  other.  I 
will  not  say  with  Pope,  that  every  speech  may  be 
assigned  to  the  proper  speaker,  because  many  speeches 
there  were  which  have  nothing  characteristical ;  but, 
perhaps,  though  some  may  be  equally  adapted  to  every 
person,  it  will  be  difficult  to  find  any  that  can  be  properly 
transferred  from  the  present  possessor  to  another 
claimant.  The  choice  is  right,  when  there  is  reason 
for  choice. 

Other  dramatists  can  only  gain  attention  by  hyper- 
bolical or  aggravated  characters,  by  fabulous  and 
unexampled  excellence  or  depravity  as  the  writers  of 
barbarous  romances  invigorated  the  reader  by  a  giant 
and  a  dwarf;  and  he  that  should  form  his  expectation 
of  human  affairs  from  the  play,  or  from  the  tale,  would 
be  equally  deceived.  Shakespeare  has  no  heroes;  his 
scenes  are  occupied  only  by  men,  who  act  and  speak  as 
the  reader  thinks  that  he  should  himself  have  spoken 
and  acted  on  the  same  occasion:  even  where  the  agency 
is  super-natural,  the  dialogue  is  level  with  life.  Other 
writers  disguise  the  most  natural  passions  and  most 
frequent  incidents ;  so  that  he  who  contemplates  them 
j  in  the  book  will  not  know  them  in  the  world :  Shakespeare 
I  approximates  the  remote,  and  familiarizes  the  won- 
«  derful;  the  event  which  he  represents  will  not  happen, 
but  if  it  were  possible,  its  eiff  ects  would  probably  be  such 
as  he  has  assigned ;  and  it  may  be  said,  that  he  has  not 
only  shown  human  nature  as  it  acts  in  real  exigencies, 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  117 

but  as  It  would  be  found  in  trials,  to  which  it  cannot 
be  exposed. 

This,  therefore,  is  the  praise  of  Shakespeare,  that  his 
drama  is  the  mirror  of  life ;  that  he  who  has  mazed  his 
imagination,  in  following  the  phantoms  which  other 
writers  raise  up  before  him,  may  here  be  cured  of  his 
delirious  ecstasies,  by  reading  human  sentiments  in 
human  language,  by  scenes  from  which  a  hermit  may 
estimate  the  transactions  of  the  world,  and  a  confessor 
predict  the  progress  of  the  passions. 

His  adherence  to  general  nature  has  exposed  him  to  the 
censure  of  criticks,  who  form  their  judgments  upon 
narrow  principles.  Dennis  and  Rymer  think  his 
Romans  not  sufficiently  Roman;  and  Voltaire  censures 
his  kings  as  not  completely  royal.  Dennis  is  offended, 
that  Menenius,  a  senator  of  Rome,  should  play  the 
buffoon;  and  Voltaire  perhaps  thinks  decency  violated 
when  the  Danish  usurper  is  represented  as  a  drunkard. 
But  Shakespeare  always  makes  nature  predominate  over 
accidents;  and  if  he  preserves  the  essential  character, 
is  not  very  careful  of  distinctions  superinduced  and 
adventitious.  His  story  requires  Romans  or  kings,  but 
he  thinks  only  on  men.  He  knew  that  Rome,  like  every 
other  city,  had  men  of  all  dispositions;  and  wanting  a 
buffoon,  he  went  into  the  senate-house  for  that 
which  the  senate-house  would  certainly  have  afforded 
him. 

He  was  inclined  to  show  an  usurper  and  a  murderer  not 
only  odious,  but  despicable;  he  therefore  added  drunk- 
enness to  his  other  qualities,  knowing  that  kings  love 
wine  like  other  men,  and  that  wine  exerts  its  natural 
power  upon  kings.  These  are  the  petty  cavils  of  petty 
minds ;  a  poet  overlooks  the  casual  distinction  of  country 


118  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

and  condition,  as  a  painter,  satisfied  with  the  figure, 
neglects  the  drapery. 
/  The  censure  which  he  has  incurred  by  mixing  comick 
and  tragick  scenes,  as  it  extends  to  all  his  works, 
deserves  more  consideration.  Let  the  fact  be  first 
stated,  and  then  examined. 

Shakespeare's  plays  are  not  in  the  rigorous  and  critical 
sense  either  tragedies  or  comedies,  but  compositions  of  a 
distinct  kind;  exhibiting  the  real  state  of  sublunary 
nature,  which  partakes  of  good  and  evil,  joy  and 
sorrow,  mingled  with  endless  variety  of  proportion  and 
innumerable  modes  of  combination;  and  expressing  the 
course  of  the  world,  in  which  the  loss  of  one  is  the  gain 
of  another;  in  which,  at  the  same  time,  the  reveller  is 
hasting  to  his  wine,  and  the  mourner  burying  his 
friend;  in  which  the  malignity  of  one  is  sometimes 
defeated  by  the  frolick  of  another;  and  many  mis- 
chiefs and  many  benefits  are  done  and  hindered  without 
design. 

Out  of  this  chaos  of  mingled  purposes  and  casualties 
the  ancient  poets,  according  to  the  laws  which  custom 
had  prescribed,  selected  some  the  crimes  of  men,  and 
some  their  absurdities :  some  the  momentous  vicissitudes 
of  life,  and  some  the  lighter  occurrences ;  some  the 
terrors  of  distress,  and  some  the  gayeties  of  prosperity. 
Thus  rose  the  two  modes  of  imitation,  known  by  the 
names  of  tragedy  and  comedy,  compositions  intended  to 
promote  different  ends  by  contrary  means,  and  con- 
sidered as  so  little  allied,  that  I  do  not  recollect  among 
the  Greeks  or  Romans,  a  single  writer  who  attempted 
both. 

Shakespeare  has  united  the  powers  of  exciting  laughter 
and  sorrow  not  only  in  one  mind,  but  in  one  composition. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  119 

Almost  all  his  plays  are  divided  between  serious  and 
ludicrous  characters,  and  in  the  successive  evolutions  of 
the  design,  sometimes  produce  seriousness  and  sorrow, 
and  sometimes  levity  and  laughter. 

That  this  is  a  practice  contrary  to  the  rules  of 
criticism  will  be  readily  allowed;  but  there  is  always  an 

/appeal  open  from  criticism  to  nature.  The  end  of 
writing  is  to  instruct;  the  end  of  poetry  is  to  instruct 
by  pleasing.  That  the  mingled  drama  may  convey  all 
the  instruction  of  tragedy  or  comedy  cannot  be  denied, 
because  it  included  both  in  its  alternations  of  exhibition, 
and  approaches  nearer  than  either  to  the  appearance 
of  life,  by  showing  how  great  machinations  and  slender 
designs  may  promote  or  obviate  one  another,  and  the 
high  and  the  low  co-operate  in  the  general  system  of 
unavoidable  concatenation. 

It  is  objected,  that  by  this  change  of  scenes  the 
passions  are  interrupted  in  their  progression,  and  that 
the  principal  event,  being  not  advanced  by  a  due  grada- 
tion of  preparatory  incidents,  wants  at  last  the  power 
to  move,  which  constitutes  the  perfection  of  dramatick 
poetry.  This  reasoning  is  so  specious,  that  it  is  received 
as  true,  even  by  those  who  in  daily  experience  feel  it  to 
be  false.  The  interchanges  of  mingled  scenes  seldom 
fail  to  produce  the  intended  vicissitudes  of  passion. 

«^  Fiction  cannot  move  so  much,  but  that  the  attention 
may  be  easily  transferred;  and  though  it  must  be 
allowed  that  pleasing  melancholy  be  sometimes  inter- 
rupted by  unwelcome  levity,  yet  let  it  be  considered 
likewise,  that  melancholy  is  often  not  pleasing,  and  that 
the  disturbance  of  one  man  may  be  the  relief  of  another ; 
that  different  auditors  have  different  habitudes;  and 
that,  upon  the  whole,  all  pleasure  consists  in  variety. 


120  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

The  players,  who  in  their  edition  divided  our  author's 
works  into  comedies,  histories,  and  tragedies,  seem  not 
to  have  distinguished  the  three  kinds,  by  any  very  exact 
or  definite  ideas. 

An  action  which  ended  happily  to  the  principal  per- 
sons, however  serious  or  distressful  through  its  inter- 
mediate incidents,  in  their  opinion  constituted  a  comedy. 
This  idea  of  a  comedy  continued  long  amongst  us,  and 
plays  were  written,  which,  by  changing  the  catastrophe, 
were  tragedies  to-day,  and  comedies  to-morrow. 

Tragedy  was  not  in  those  times  a  poem  of  more  gen- 
eral dignity  or  elevation  than  comedy;  it  required  only 
a  calamitous  conclusion,  with  which  the  common  criti- 
cism of  that  age  was  satisfied,  whatever  lighter  pleas- 
ure it  afforded  in  its  progress. 

History  was  a  series  of  actions,  with  no  other  than 
chronological  succession,  dependent  on  each  other, 
and  without  any  tendency  to  introduce  and  regulate 
the  conclusion.  It  is  not  always  very  nicely  dis- 
tinguished from  tragedy.  There  is  not  much  nearer 
approach  to  unity  of  action  in  the  tragedy  of 
"Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  than  in  the  history  of 
"Richard  the  Second."  But  a  history  might  be  con- 
tinued through  many  plays;  as  it  had  no  plan,  it  had 
no  limits. 

Through  all  these  denominations  of  the  drama, 
Shakespeare's  mode  of  composition  is  the  same ;  an  inter- 
change of  seriousness  and  merriment,  by  which  the  mind 
is  softened  at  one  time,  and  exhilarated  at  another. 
But  whatever  be  his  purpose,  whether  to  gladden  or 
depress,  or  to  conduct  the  story,  without  vehemence  or 
emotion,  through  tracts  of  easy  and  familiar  dialogue, 
he  never  fails  to  attain  his  purpose;  as  he  commands 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  121 

us,  we  laugh  or  mourn,  or  sit  silent  with  quiet  expecta- 
tion, in  tranquillity  without  indifference.  When  Shake- 
speare's plan  is  understood,  most  of  the  criticisms 
of  Rymer  and  Voltaire  vanish  away.  The  play  of 
"  Hamlet "  is  opened,  without  impropriety,  by  two 
centinels;  I  ago  bellows  at  Brabantio's  window,  without 
injury  to  the  scheme  of  the  play,  though  in  terms  which 
a  modern  audience  would  not  easily  endure;  the  char- 
acter of  Polonius  is  seasonable  and  useful;  and  the 
Gravediggers  themselves  may  be  heard  with  applause. 

Shakespeare  engaged  in  dramatick  poetry  with  the 
world  open  before  him;  the  rules  of  the  ancients  were 
yet  known  to  few;  the  publick  judgment  was  unformed; 
he  had  no  example  of  such  fame  as  might  force  him 
upon  imitation,  nor  criticks  of  such  authority  as  might 
restrain  his  extravagance:  he  therefore  indulged  his 
natural  disposition,  and  his  disposition,  as  Rymer  has  ^ 
remarked,  led  him  to  comedy.  In  tragedy  he  often 
writes  with  great  appearance  of  toil  and  study,  what 
is  written  at  last  with  little  felicity;  but  in  his  comick 
scenes,  he  seems  to  produce  without  labour,  what  no 
labour  can  improve.  In  tragedy  he  is  always  struggling  ^ 
after  some  occasion  to  be  comick,  but  in  comedy  he 
seems  to  repose,  or  to  luxuriate,  as  in  a  mode  of  thinking 
congenial  to  his  nature.  In  his  tragick  scenes  there  is 
always  something  wanting,  but  his  comedy  often  sur- 
passes expectation  or  desire.  His  comedy  pleases  by  the 
thoughts  and  the  language,  and  his  tragedy  for  the 
greater  part  by  incident  and  action.  His  tragedy 
seems  to  be  skill,  his  comedy  to  be  instinct. 

The  force  of  his  comick  scenes  has  suffered  little  dimi- 
nution from  the  changes  made  by  a  century  and  a  half, 
in  manners  or  in  words.     As  his  personages  act  upon 


m  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

principles  arising  from  genuine  passion,  very  little 
modified  by  particular  forms,  their  pleasures  and  vexa- 
tions are  communicable  to  all  times  and  to  all  places ; 
they  are  natural,  and  therefore  durable ;  the  adventitious 
peculiarities  of  personal  habits,  are  only  superficial  dies, 
bright  and  pleasing  for  a  little  while,  yet  soon  faded  to 
a  dim  tint,  without  any  remains  of  former  lustre;  and 
the  discrimination  of  true  passion  are  the  colours  of 
nature;  they  pervade  the  whole  mass,  and  can  only 
perish  with  the  body  that  exhibits  them.  The  accidental 
compositions  of  heterogeneous  modes  are  dissolved  by 
the  chance  that  combined  them;  but  the  uniform  sim- 
plicity of  primitive  qualities  neither  admits  increase, 
nor  suff^ers  decay.  The  sand  heaped  by  one  flood  is 
scattered  by  another,  but  the  rock  always  continues  in 
its  place.  The  stream  of  time,  which  is  continually 
washing  the  dissoluble  fabricks  of  other  poets,  passes 
without  injury  by  the  adamant  of  Shakespeare. 

If  there  be,  what  I  believe  there  is,  in  every  nation,  a 
style  which  never  becomes  obsolete,  a  certain  mode  of 
phraseology  so  consonant  and  congenial  to  the  analogy 
and  principles  of  its  respective  language,  as  to  remain 
settled  and  unaltered :  this  style  is  probably  to  be  sought 
in  the  common  intercourse  of  life,  among  those  who 
speak  only  to  be  understood,  without  ambition  of 
elegance.  The  polite  are  always  catching  modish  inno- 
vations, and  the  learned  depart  from  established  forms 
of  speech,  in  hope  of  finding  or  making  better;  those 
who  wish  for  distinction  forsake  the  vulgar,  when  the 
vulgar  is  right ;  but  there  is  a  conversation  above  gross- 
ness  and  below  refinement,  where  propriety  resides,  and 
where  this  poet  seems  to  have  gathered  his  comick 
dialogue.     He  is  therefore,  more  agreeable  to  the  ears 


— -^^     TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  123 

of  the  present  age,  than  any  other  author  equally 
remote,  and  among  his  other  excellencies  deserves  to 
be  studied  as  one  of  the  original  masters  of  our 
language. 

These  observations  are  to  be  considered  not  as  unex- 
ceptionably  constant,  but  as  containing  general  and 
predominant  truth.  Shakespeare's  familiar  dialogue  is 
affirmed  to  be  smooth  and  clear,  yet  not  wholly  without 
ruggedness  or  difficulty ;  as  a  country  may  be  eminently 
fruitful,  though  it  has  spots  unfit  for  cultivation:  his 
characters  are  praised  as  natural,  though  their  senti- 
ments are  sometimes  forced,  and  their  actions  im- 
probable; as  the  earth  upon  the  whole  is  spherical, 
though  its  surface  is  varied  with  protuberances  and 
cavities. 

Shakespeare,  with  his  excellencies,  has  likewise  faults, 
and  faults  sufficient  to  obscure  and  overwhelm  any  other 
merit.  I  shall  show  them  in  the  proportion  in  which 
they  appear  to  me,  without  envious  malignity  or  super- 
stitious veneration.  No  question  can  be  more  innocently 
discussed  than  a  dead  poet's  pretensions  to  renown ;  and 
little  regard  is  due  to  that  bigotry  which  sets  candour 
higher  than  truth. 

His  first  defect  is  that  to  which  may  be  imputed  most 
of  the  evil  in  books  or  in  men.  He  sacrifices  virtue  to 
convenience,  and  is  so  much  more  careful  to  please  than 
to  instruct,  that  he  seems  to  write  without  any  moral 
purpose.  From  his  writings  indeed  a  system  of  social 
duty  may  be  selected,  for  he  that  thinks  reasonably 
must  think  morally;  but  his  precepts  and  axioms  drop 
casually  from  him;  he  makes  no  just  distribution  of 
good  or  evil,  nor  is  always  careful  to  show  in  the  virtu- 
ous   a   disapprobation  of   the   wicked;   he    carries   his 


lU  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

persons  indifferently  through  right  and  wrong,  and  at 
the  close  dismisses  them  without  further  care,  and  leaves 
their  examples  to  operate  by  chance.  This  fault  the 
barbarity  of  his  age  cannot  extenuate ;  for  it  is  always 
a  writer's  duty  to  make  the  world  better,  and  justice  is 
a  virtue  independent  on  time  or  place. 

The  plots  are  often  so  loosely  formed  that  a  very 
slight  consideration  may  improve  them,  and  so  care- 
lessly pursued,  that  he  seems  not  always  fully  to 
comprehend  his  own  design.  He  omits  opportunities  of 
instructing  or  delighting,  which  the  train  of  his  story 
seems  to  force  upon  him,  and  apparently  rejects  those 
exhibitions  which  would  be  more  affecting,  for  the  sake 
of  those  which  are  more  easy. 

It  may  be  observed,  that  in  many  of  his  plays,  the  latter 
part  is  evidently  neglected.  When  he  found  himself 
near  the  end  of  his  work,  and  in  view  of  his  reward,  he 
shortened  the  labour  to  snatch  the  profit.  He  therefore 
remits  his  efforts  where  he  should  most  vigorously  exert 
them,  and  his  catastrophe  is  improbably  produced  or 
imperfectly  represented. 

He  had  no  regard  to  distinction  of  time  or  place,  but 
gives  to  one  age  or  nation,  without  scruple,  the  customs, 
institutions,  and  opinions  of  another,  at  the  expence  not 
only  of  likelihood,  but  of  possibility.  These  faults 
Pope  has  endeavoured,  with  more  zeal  than  judgment,  to 
transfer  to  his  imagined  interpolators.  We  need  not 
wonder  to  find  Hector  quoting  Aristotle,  when  we  see  the 
loves  of  Theseus  and  Hippolyta  combined  with  the 
Gothick  mythology  of  fairies.  Shakespeare,  indeed, 
was  not  the  only  violator  of  chronology,  for  in  the  same 
age  Sidney,  who  wanted  not  the  advantages  of  learning, 
has,  in  his  "  Arcadia,"  confounded  the  pastoral  with  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  125 

foudal  times,  the  days  of  innocence,  quiet,  and  security, 
with  those  of  turbulence,  violence,  and  adventure. 

In  his  comick  scenes,  he  is  seldom  very  successful,  when 
he  engages  his  characters  in  reciprocations  of  smart- 
ness and  contests  of  sarcasm;  their  jests  are  commonly 
gross,  and  their  pleasantry  licentious ;  neither  his  gen- 

*  tlemen  nor  his  ladies  have  much  delicacy,  nor  are 
sufficiently  distinguished  from  his  clowns  by  any  appear- 
ance of  refined  manners.  Whether  he  represented  the 
real  conversation  of  his  time  is  not  easy  to  determine; 
the  reign  of  Elizabeth  is  commonly  supposed  to  have 
been  a  time  of  stateliness,  formality,  and  reserve,  yet 
perhaps,  the  relaxations  of  that  severity  were  not  very 
elegant.  There  must,  however,  have  been  always  some 
modes  of  gaiety  preferable  to  others,  and  a  writer  ought 
to  choose  the  best. 

In  tragedy  his  performance  seems  constantly  to  be 
worse,  as  his  labour  is  more.  The  effusions  of  passion, 
which  exigence  forces  out,  are  for  the  most  part  striking 
and  energetick ;  but  whenever  he  solicits  his  invention,  or 
strains  his  faculties,  the  offspring  of  his  throes  is 
tumour,  meanness,  tediousness,  and  obscurity. 
In  narration  he  affects  a  disproportionate  pomp  of 

f  diction,  and  a  wearisome  train  of  circumlocution,  and 
telTs^  the  incident  imperfectly  in  many  words,  which 
might  have  been  more  plainly  delivered  in  few.  Narra- 
tion in  dramatick  poetry  is  naturally  tedious,  as  it  is 
unanimated  and  inactive,  and  obstructs  the  progress  of 
the  action;  it  should,  therefore,  always  be  rapid,  and 
enlivened  by  frequent  interruption.  Shakespeare  found 
it  an  incumbrance,  and  instead  of  lightening  it  by 
brevity,  endeavoured  to  recommend  it  by  dignity  and 
splendour. 


126  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

His  declamations  or  set  speeches  are  commonly  cold 
and  weak,  for  his  power  was  the  power  of  nature ;  when 
he  endeavoured,  like  other  tragic  writers,  to  catch 
opportunities  of  amplification,  and  instead  of  inquiring 
what  the  occasion  demanded,  to  show  how  much  his 
stores  of  knowledge  could  supply,  he  seldom  escapes 
without  the  pity  or  resentment  of  his  reader. 

It  is  incident  to  him  to  be  now  and  then  entangled 
with  an  unwieldy  sentiment,  which  he  cannot  well  ex- 
press, and  will  not  reject;  he  struggles  with  it  a  while, 
and  if  it  continues  stubborn,  comprises  it  in  words  such 
as  occur,  and  leaves  it  to  be  disentangled  and  evolved 
by  those  who  have  more  leisure  to  bestow  upon  it. 

Not  that  always  where  the  language  is  intricate,  the 
thought  is  subtle,  or  the  image  always  great  where  the 
line  is  bulky;  the  equality  of  words  to  things  is  very 
often  neglected,  and  trivial  sentiments  and  vulgar  ideas 
disappoint  the  attention,  to  which  they  are  recom- 
mended by  sonorous  epithets  and  swelling  figures. 

But  the  admirers  of  this  great  poet  have  most  reason 
to  complain  when  he  approaches  nearest  to  his  highest 
excellence,  and  seems  fully  resolved  to  sink  them  in 
dejection,  and  mollify  them  with  tender  emotions  by 
the  fall  of  greatness,  the  danger  of  innocence,  or  the 
crosses  of  love.  What  he  does  best,  he  soon  ceases  to 
do.  He  is  not  long  soft  and  pathetick  without  some  idle 
conceit,  or  contemptible  equivocation.  He  no  sooner 
begins  to  move,  than  he  counteracts  himself ;  and  terror 
and  pity,  as  they  are  rising  in  the  mind,  are  checked 
and  blasted  by  sudden  frigidity. 

A  quibble  is  to  Shakespeare,  what  luminous  vapours 
are  to  the  traveller;  he  follows  it  at  all  adventures;  it 
is  sure  to  lead  him  out  of  his  way,  and  sure  to  engulf 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  127 

him  in  the  mire.  It  has  some  malignant  power  over  his 
mind,  and  its  fascinations  are  irresistible.  Whatever 
be  the  dignity  or  profundity  of  his  disquisitions, 
whether  he  be  enlarging  knowledge,  or  exalting  affec- 
tion, whether  he  be  amusing  attention  with  incidents,  or 
enchaining  it  in  suspense,  let  but  a  quibble  spring  up 
before  him,  and  he  leaves  his  work  unfinished.  A  quibble 
is  the  golden  apple  for  which  he  will  always  turn  aside 
from  his  career,  or  stoop  from  his  elevation.  A  quibble, 
poor  and  barren  as  it  is,  gave  him  such  delight,  that  he 
was  content  to  purchase  it  by  the  sacrifice  of  reason, 
propriety  and  truth.  A  quibble  was  to  him  the  fatal 
Cleopatra  for  which  he  lost  the  world,  and  was  content 
to  lose  it. 

It  will  be  thought  strange,  that,  in  enumerating  the 
defects  of  this  writer,  I  have  not  yet  mentioned  his 
neglect  of  the  unities ;  his  violation  of  those  laws  which 
have  been  instituted  and  established  by  the  joint 
authority  of  poets  and  criticks. 

For  his  other  deviations  from  the  art  of  writing,  I 

resign  him  to  critical  justice,  without  making  any  other 

demand  in  his  favour  than  that  which  must  be  indulged 

\  to  all  human  excellence ;  that  his  virtues  be  rated  with  his 

failings :  but,  from  the  censure  which  this  irregularity 

ay  bring  upon  him,  I  shall,  with  due  reverence  to  that 

earning  which  I  must  oppose,  adventure  to  try  how  I 

an  defend  him.  ^ 

His  histories,  being  neither  tragedies  nor  comedies,  are 
ot  subject  to  any  of  their  laws;  nothing  is  more 
ecessary  to  all  the  praise  which  they  expect,  than  that 

*For  the  best  discussion  of  this  much  vexed  question  see  Prof, 
los.  R.  Lounsbury's  "  Shakespeare  as  a  Dramatic  Artist," 
lapters  I-III. 


128  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

the  changes  of  action  be  so  prepared  as  to  be  understood, 
that  the  incidents  be  various  and  affecting,  and  the 
characters  consistent,  natural,  and  distinct.  No  other 
unity  is  intended,  and  therefore  none  is  to  be  sought. 

In  his  other  works  he  has  well  enough  preserved  the 
unity  of  action.  He  has  not,  indeed,  an  intrigue 
regularly  perplexed  and  regularly  unravelled;  he  does 
not  endeavour  to  hide  his  design  only  to  discover  it,  for 
this  is  seldom  the  order  of  real  events,  and  Shakespeare 
is  the  poet  of  nature:  but  his  plan  has  commonly  what 
Aristotle  requires,  a  beginning,  a  middle,  and  an  end; 
one  event  concatenated  with  another,  and  the  con- 
clusion follows  by  easy  consequence.  There  are,  per- 
haps, some  incidents  ^  that  might  be  spared,  as  in  other 
poets  there  is  much  talk  that  only  fills  up  time  upon  the 
stage ;  but  the  general  system  makes  gradual  advances, 
and  the  end  of  the  play  is  the  end  of  expectation. 

To  the  unities  of  time  and  place,  he  has  shown  no 
regard ;  and  perhaps  a  nearer  view  of  the  principles  on 
which  they  stand  will  diminish  their  value,  and  with- 
draw from  the  veneration  which,  from  the  time  of 
Corneille,  they  have  very  generally  received,  by  discov- 
ering that  they  have  given  more  trouble  to  the  poet, 
than  pleasure  to  the  auditor. 

The  necessity  of  observing  the  unities  of  time  and 
place  arises  from  the  supposed  necessity  of  making  the 
drama  credible.  The  criticks  hold  it  impossible  that  an 
action  of  months  or  years  can  be  possibly  believed  to 
pass  in  three  hours ;  or  that  the  spectator  can  suppose 
himself  to  sit  in  the  theatre,  while  ambassadors  go  and 
return  between  distant  kings,  while  armies  are  levied 
and  towns  besieged,  while  an  exile  wanders  and  returns, 
or  till  he  whom  they  saw  courting  his  mistress,  shall 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  129 

lament  the  untimely  fall  of  his  son.  The  mind  revolts 
from  evident  falsehood,  and  fiction  loses  its  force  when 
it  departs  from  the  resemblance  of  reality. 

From  the  narrow  limitation  of  time  necessarily  arises 
the  contraction  of  place.  The  spectator,  who  knows 
that  he  saw  the  first  act  at  Alexandria,  cannot  suppose 
that  he  sees  the  next  at  Rome,  at  a  distance  to  which  not 
the  dragons  of  Medea  could,  in  so  short  a  time,  have 
transported  him;  he  knows  with  certainty  that  he  has 
not  changed  his  place;  and  he  knows  that  place  cannot 
change  itself;  that  what  was  a  house  cannot  become  a 
plain;  that  what  was  Thebes  can  never  be  Persepolis. 

Such  is  the  triumphant  language  with  which  a 
critick  exults  over  the  misery  of  an  irregular  poet,  and 
exults  commonly  without  resistance  or  reply.  It  is 
time,  therefore,  to  tell  him,  by  the  authority  of  Shake- 
speare, that  he  assumes,  as  an  unquestionable  principle, 
a  position,  which,  while  his  breath  is  forming  it  into 
words,  his  understanding  pronounces  to  be  false.  It  is 
false,  that  any  representation  is  mistaken  for  reality; 
that  any  dramatick  fable  in  its  materiality  was  ever 
credible,  or,  for  a  single  moment,  was  ever  credited. 

The  objection  arising  from  the  impossibility  of 
passing  the  first  hour  at  Alexandria,  and  the  next  at 
Rome,  supposes,  that  when  the  play  opens,  the  spectator 
really  imagines  himself  at  Alexandria,  and  believes  that 
his  walk  to  the  theatre  has  been  a  voyage  to  Egypt,  and 
that  he  lives  in  the  days  of  Antony  and  Cleopatra. 
Surely  he  that  imagines  this  may  imagine  more.  He 
that  can  take  the  stage  at  one  time  for  the  palace  of 
the  Ptolemies,  may  take  it  in  half  an  hour  for  the  prom- 
ontory of  Actium.  Delusion,  if  delusion  be  admitted, 
has  no  certain  limitation;  if  the  spectator  can  be  once 


I 


130  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

persuaded,  that  his  old  acquaintance  are  Alexander  and 
Caesar,  that  a  room  illuminated  with  candles  is  the  plain 
of  Pharsalia,  or  the  bank  of  Granicus,  he  is  in  a  state  of 
elevation  above  the  reach  of  reason,  or  of  truth,  and 
from  the  heights  of  empyrean  poetry,  may  despise  the 
circumscriptions  of  terrestrial  nature.  There  is  no 
reason  why  a  mind  thus  wandering  in  ecstacy  should 
count  the  clock,  or  why  an  hour  should  not  be  a  century 
in  that  calenture  of  the  brains  that  can  make  the  stage 
a  field. 

The  truth  is,  that  the  spectators  are  always  in  their 
senses,  and  know,  from  the  first  act  to  the  last,  that  the 
stage  is  only  a  stage,  and  that  the  players  are  only 
players.  They  come  to  hear  a  certain  number  of  lines 
recited  with  just  gesture  and  elegant  modulation.  The 
lines  relate  to  some  action,  and  an  action  must  be  in 
some  place;  but  the  different  actions  that  complete  a 
story  may  be  in  places  very  remote  from  each  other; 
and  where  is  the  absurdity  of  allowing  that  space  to 
represent  first  Athens,  and  then  Sicily,  which  was  always 
known  to  be  neither  Sicily  nor  Athens,  but  a  modern 
theatre? 

By  supposition,  as  place  is  introduced,  time  may  be 
extended ;  the  time  required  by  the  fable  elapses,  for  the 
most  part,  between  the  acts;  for,  of  so  much  of  the 
action  as  is  represented,  the  real  and  poetical  duration 
is  the  same.  If,  in  the  first  act,  preparations  for  war 
against  Mithridates  are  represented  to  be  made  in 
Rome,  the  event  of  the  war  may,  without  absurdity,  be 
represented,  in  the  catastrophe,  as  happening  in  Pontus ; 
we  know  that  there  is  neither  war,  nor  preparation  for 
war ;  we  know  that  we  are  neither  in  Rome  nor  Pontus ; 
that  neither  Mithridates  nor  Lucullus  are  before  us. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  131 

The  drama  exhibits  successive  imitations  of  successive 
actions,  and  why  may  not  the  second  imitation  repre- 
sent an  action  that  happened  years  after  the  first ;  if  it 
be  so  connected  with  it,  that  nothing  but  time  can  be 
supposed  to  intervene?  Time  is,  of  all  modes  of  exist- 
ence, most  obsequious  to  the  imagination;  a  lapse  of 
years  is  as  easily  conceived  as  a  passage  of  hours.  In 
contemplation  we  easily  contract  the  time  of  real  actions, 
and  therefore,  willingly  permit  it  to  be  contracted  when 
we  only  see  their  imitation. 

It  will  be  asked,  how  the  drama  moves,  if  it  is  not 
credited.  It  is  credited  with  all  the  credit  due  to  a 
drama.  It  is  credited,  whenever  it  moves,  as  a  just 
picture  of  a  real  original ;  as  representing  to  the  auditor 
what  he  would  himself  feel,  if  he  were  to  do  or  suffer 
what  is  there  feigned  to  be  suffered  or  to  be  done.  The 
reflection  that  strikes  the  heart  is  not,  that  the  evils 
before  us  are  real  evils,  but  that  they  are  evils  to  which 
we  ourselves  may  be  exposed.  If  there  be  any  fallacy, 
it  is  not  that  we  fancy  the  players,  but  that  we  fancy 
ourselves  unhappy  for  a  moment ;  but  we  rather  lament 
the  possibility  than  suppose  the  presence  of  misery,  as  a 
mother  weeps  over  her  babe,  when  she  remembers  that 
death  may  take  it  from  her.  The  delight  of  tragedy 
proceeds  from  our  consciousness  of  fiction;  if  we 
thought  murders  and  treasons  real,  they  would  please 
no  more. 

Imitations  produce  pain  or  pleasure,  not  because  they 
are  mistaken  for  realities,  but  because  they  bring 
realities  to  mind.  When  the  imagination  is  recreated 
by  a  painted  landscape,  the  trees  are  not  supposed 
capable  to  give  us  shade,  or  the  fountains  coolness ;  but 
we    consider,    how    we    should    be    pleased   with    such 


132  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

fountains  jdaying  beside  us,  and  such  woods  waving 
over  us.  We  are  agitated  in  reading  the  History  of 
*'  Henry  the  Fifth,"  yet  no  man  takes  his  book  for  the 
field  of  Agincourt.  A  dramatick  exhibition  is  a  book 
recited  with  concomitants  that  increase  or  diminish  its 
effect.  Famihar  comedy  is  often  more  powerful  on 
the  theatre  than  in  the  page ;  imperial  tragedy  is  always 
less.  The  humour  of  Petruchio  may  be  heightened  by 
grimace;  but  what  voice  or  what  gesture  can  hope  to 
add  dignity  or  force  to  the  soliloquy  of  Cato? 

A  play  read,  affects  the  mind  like  a  play  acted.  It  is 
therefore  evident  that  the  action  is  not  supposed  to  be 
real;  and  it  follows,  that  between  the  acts  a  longer  or 
shorter  time  may  be  allowed  to  pass,  and  that  no  more 
account  of  space  or  duration  is  to  be  taken  by  the 
auditor  of  a  drama,  than  by  the  reader  of  a  narrative, 
before  whom  may  pass  in  an  hour  the  life  of  a  hero,  or 
the  revolutions  of  an  empire. 

Whether  Shakespeare  knew  the  unities,  and  rejected 
them  by  design,  or  deviated  from  them  by  happy  ignor- 
ance, it  is,  I  think,  impossible  to  decide,  and  useless  to 
enquire.  We  may  reasonably  suppose,  that,  when  he 
rose  to  notice,  he  did  not  want  the  counsels  and  admoni- 
tions of  scholars  and  criticks,  and  that  he  at  last 
deliberately  persisted  in  a  practice,  which  he  might 
have  begun  by  chance. 

As  nothing  is  essential  to  the  fable,  but  unity  of 
action,  and  as  the  unities  of  time  and  place  arise 
evidently  from  false  assumptions,  and,  by  circum- 
scribing the  extent  of  the  drama,  lessen  its  variety,  I 
cannot  think  it  much  to  be  lamented  that  they  were  not 
known  by  him,  or  not  observed :  nor,  if  such  another  poet 
could  arise,  should  I  very  vehemently  reproach  him,  that 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  133 

his  first  act  passed  at  Venice,  and  his  next  in  Cyprus. 

Such  violations   of  rules  merely   positive,  became  the 

comprehensive     genius     of     Shakespeare,     and     such 

censures    are    suitable    to    the    minute    and    slender 

criticism  of  Voltaire: 

"  Non  usque  adeo  permiscuit  imis 
Longus  summa   dies,  ut   non,  si  voce  MetelK 
Serventure  leges,  malint  a  Cwsare  tolli.'* 

Yet  when  I  speak  thus  slightly  of  dramatick  rules,  I 
cannot  but  recollect  how  much  wit  and  learning  may  be 
produced  against  me;  before  such  authorities  I  am 
afraid  to  stand,  not  that  I  think  the  present  question 
one  of  those  that  are  to  be  decided  by  mere  authority, 
but  because  it  is  to  be  suspected  that  these  precepts 
have  not  been  so  easily  received,  but  for  better  reasons 
than  I  have  yet  been  able  to  find.  The  result  of  my 
inquiries.  In  which  It  would  be  ludicrous  to  boast  of 
Impartiality,  Is  that  the  unities  of  time  and  place  are 
not  essential  to  a  just  drama,  that  though  they  may 
sometimes  conduce  to  pleasure,  they  are  always  to  be 
sacrificed  to  the  nobler  beauties  of  variety  and  instruc- 
tion; and  that  a  play,  written  with  nice  observation  of 
critical  rules,  Is  to  be  contemplated  as  an  elaborate 
curiosity,  as  the  product  of  superfluous  and  ostentatious 
art,  by  which  Is  shown,  rather  what  is  possible,  than 
what  Is  necessary. 

He  that,  without  diminution  of  any  other  excellence, 
shall  preserve  all  the  unities  unbroken,  deserves  the 
like  applause  with  the  architect,  who  shall  display  all 
the  orders  of  architecture  In  a  citadel,  without  any 
deduction  from  Its  strength;  but  the  principal  beauty 
of  a  citadel  is  to  exclude  the  enemy;  and  the  greatest 
graces  of  a  play  are  to  copy  nature   and  instruct  life. 


184  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Perhaps,  what  I  have  here  not  dogmatically  but  delib- 
erately written,  may  recall  the  principles  of  the  drama 
to  a  new  examination.  I  am  almost  frightened  at  my 
own  temerity;  and  when  I  estimate  the  fame  and  the 
strength  of  those  that  maintain  the  contrary  opinion, 
am  ready  to  sink  down  in  reverential  silence;  as  ^neas 
withdrew  from  the  defence  of  Troy,  when  he  saw 
Neptune  shaking  the  wall,  and  Juno  heading  the 
besiegers. 

Those  whom  my  arguments  cannot  persuade  to  give 
their  approbation  to  the  judgment  of  Shakespeare,  will 
easily,  if  they  consider  the  condition  of  his  life,  make 
some  allowance  for  his  ignorance. 

Every  man's  performances,  to  be  rightly  estimated, 
must  be  compared  to  the  state  of  the  age  in  which  he 
lived,  and  with  his  own  particular  opportunities;  and 
though  to  a  reader  a  book  be  not  worse  or  better  for  the 
circumstances  of  the  author,  yet  as  there  is  always  a 
silent  reference  of  human  works  to  human  abilities,  and 
as  the  enquiry,  how  far  man  may  extend  his  designs,  or 
how  high  he  may  rate  his  native  force,  is  of  far  greater 
dignity  than  in  what  rank  we  shall  place  any  particular 
performance,  curiosity  is  always  busy  to  discover  the 
instruments,  as  well  as  to  survey  the  workmanship,  to 
know  how  much  is  to  be  ascribed  to  original  powers,  and 
how  much  to  casual  and  adventitious  help.  The  palaces 
of  Peru  or  Mexico  were  certainly  mean  and  incom- 
modious habitations,  if  compared  to  the  houses  of 
European  monarchs;  yet  who  could  forbear  to  view 
them  with  astonishment,  who  remembered  that  they 
were  built  without  the  use  of  iron.? 

The  English  nation,  in  the  time  of  Shakespeare,  was 
yet  struggling  to  emerge  from  barbarity.     The  phi- 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  135 

lology  of  Italy  had  been  translated  hither  in  the  reign 
of  Henry  the  Eighth;  and  the  learned  languages  had 
been  successfully  cultivated  by  Lilly,  Linacre,  and 
More;  by  Pole,  Cheke,  and  Gardiner;  and  afterwards 
by  Smith,  Clerk,  Haddon,  and  Ascham.  Greek  was 
now  taught  to  boys  in  the  principal  schools ;  and  those 
who  united  elegance  with  learning,  read,  with  great 
diligence,  the  Italian  and  Spanish  poets.  But  literature 
was  yet  confined  to  professed  scholars,  or  to  men  and 
women  of  high  rank.  The  publick  was  gross  and  dark ; 
and  to  be  able  to  read  and  write  was  an  accomplish- 
ment still  valued  for  its  rarity. 

Nations,  like  individuals,  have  their  infancy.  A  people 
newly  awakened  to  literary  curiosity,  being  yet  un- 
acquainted with  the  true  state  of  things,  knows  not 
how  to  judge  of  that  which  is  proposed  as  its  resem- 
blance. Whatever  is  remote  from  common  appearances 
is  always  welcome  to  vulgar,  as  to  childish  credulity; 
and  of  a  country  unenlightened  by  learning,  the  whole 
people  is  the  vulgar.  The  study  of  those  who  then  as- 
pired to  plebeian  learning  was  laid  out  upon  adventures, 
giants,  dragons,  and  enchantments.  The  "  Death  of 
Arthur  "  was  the  favourite  volume. 

The  mind,  which  has  feasted  on  the  luxurious  wonders 
of  fiction,  has  no  taste  for  the  insipidity  of  truth.  A 
play,  which  imitated  only  the  common  occurrences  of 
the  world,  would,  upon  the  admirers  of  Palmerin  and 
Guy  of  Warwick,  have  made  little  impression ;  he  that 
wrote  for  such  an  audience  was  under  the  necessity  of 
looking  round  for  strange  events  and  fabulous  trans- 
actions, and  that  incredibility,  by  which  maturer 
knowledge  is  offended,  was  the  chief  recommendation 
of  writings  to  unskilful  curiosity. 


136  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Our  author's  plots  are  generally  borrowed  from 
novels;  and  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  he  chose 
the  most  popular,  such  as  were  read  by  many,  and 
related  by  more;  for  his  audience  could  not  have 
followed  him  through  the  intricacies  of  the  drama,  had 
they  not  held  the  thread  of  the  story  in  their  hands. 

The  stories,  which  we  now  find  only  in  remoter  authors, 
were  in  his  time  accessible  and  familiar.  The  fable  of 
"  As  You  Like  It,"  which  is  supposed  to  be  copied  from 
Chaucer's  "  Gamelyne,"  ^  was  a  little  pamphlet  of  those 
times;  and  old  Mr.  Cibber  remembered  the  tale  of 
"  Hamlet  "  in  plain  English  prose,  which  the  criticks 
have  now  to  seek  in  Saxo  Grammaticus. 

His  English  histories  he  took  from  English  chroni- 
cles and  English  ballads;^  and  as  the  ancient  writers 
were  made  known  to  his  countrymen  by  versions,  they 
supplied  him  with  new  subjects;  he  dilated  some  of  Plu- 
tarch's lives  into  plays,  when  they  had  been  translated 
by  North. 

His  plots,  whether  historical  or  fabulous,  are  always 
crowded  with  incidents,  by  which  the  attention  of  a  rude 
people  was  more  easily  caught  than  by  sentiment  or 
argumentation ;  and  such  is  the  power  of  the  marvellous, 
even  over  those  who  despise  it,  that  every  man  finds  his 
mind  more  strongly  seized  by  the  tragedies  of  Shake- 
speare than  of  any  other  writer;  others  please  us  by 
particular  speeches,  but  he  always  makes  us  anxious 
for  the  event,  and  has  perhaps  excelled  all  but  Homer 
in  securing  the  first  purpose  of  a  writer,  by  exciting 

"The  foundation  of  "As  You  Like  It"  was  Thos.  Lodge's 
novel  "  Rosalynde  or  Euphues  Legacy.'* 

'Except  "King  John"  which  was  based  upon  an  old  play  by 
John  Bale  entitled  "The  Troublesome  Raigne  of  King  John,"  a 
l>itter  tractate  against  the  papacy. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  137 

restless  and  unquenchable  curiosity,  and  compelling  him 
that  reads  his  work  to  read  it  through. 

The  shows  and  bustle  with  which  his  plays  abound 
have  the  same  original.  As  knowledge  advances,  pleas- 
ure passes  from  the  eye  to  the  ear  but  returns,  as  it 
declines,  from  the  ear  to  the  eye.  Those  to  whom  our 
author's  labours  were  exhibited  had  more  skill  in  pomps 
or  processions  than  in  poetical  language,  and  perhaps 
wanted  some  visible  and  discriminated  events,  as  com- 
ments on  the  dialogue.  He  knew  how  he  should  most 
please;  and  whether  his  practice  is  more  agreeable  to 
nature,  or  whether  his  example  has  prejudiced  the 
nation,  we  still  find  that  on  our  stage  something  must 
be  done  as  well  as  said,  and  inactive  declamation  is  very 
coldly  heard,  however  musical  or  elegant,  passionate  or 
sublime. 

Voltaire  expresses  his  wonder,  that  our  author's  ex- 
travagances are  endured  by  a  nation  which  has  seen 
the  tragedy  of  "  Cato."  Let  him  be  answered,  that  Addi- 
son speaks  the  language  of  poets,  and  Shakespeare  of 
men.  We  find  in  "  Cato "  innumerable  beauties  which 
enamour  us  of  its  author,  but  we  see  nothing  that 
acquaints  us  with  human  sentiments  or  human  actions ; 
fwe  place  it  with  the  fairest  and  the  noblest  progeny 
which  judgment  propagates  by  conjunction  with  learn- 
ing ;  but  "  Othello  "  is  the  vigorous  and  vivacious  off- 
spring of  observation  impregnated  by  genius.  "  Cato  " 
affords  a  splendid  exhibition  of  artificial  and  fictitious 
manners,  and  delivers  just  and  noble  sentiments,  in  dic- 
tion easy  and  harmonious,  but  its  hopes  and  fears  com- 
municate no  vibration  to  the  heart;  the  composition 
refers  us  only  to  the  writer;  we  pronounce  the  name  of 
"  Cato,"  but  we  think  on  Addison. 


1S8  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

The  work  of  a  correct  and  regular  writer  is  a  garden 
accurately  formed  and  diligently  planted,  varied  with 
shades,  and  scented  with  flowers:  the  composition  of 
Shakespeare  is  a  forest,  in  which  oaks  extend  their 
branches,  and  pines  tower  in  the  air,  interspersed  some- 
times with  the  weeds  and  brambles,  and  sometimes 
giving  shelter  to  myrtles  and  to  roses;  filling  the  eye 
with  awful  pomp  and  gratifying  the  mind  with  endless 
diversity.  Other  poets  display  cabinets  of  precious 
rarities,  minutely  finished,  wrought  into  shape,  and 
polished  into  brightness.  Shakespeare  opens  a  mine 
which  contains  gold  and  diamonds  in  unexhaustible 
plenty,  though  clouded  by  incrustations,  debased  by  im- 
purities, and  mingled  with  a  mass  of  meaner  minerals. 

It  has  been  much  disputed,  whether  Shakespeare  owed 
his  excellence  to  his  own  native  force,  or  whether  he  had 
the  common  helps  of  scholastic  education,  the  precepts 
of  critical  science,  and  the  examples  of  ancient  authors. 

There  has  always  prevailed  a  tradition,  that  Shake- 
speare wanted  learning,  that  he  had  no  regular  education 
nor  much  skill  in  the  dead  languages.  Jonson,  his  friend, 
affirms  that  he  had  small  Latin,  and  less  Greek;  who, 
besides  that  he  had  no  imaginable  temptation  to  false- 
hood, wrote  at  a  time  when  the  character  and  acquisi- 
tions of  Shakespeare  were  known  to  multitudes.  His 
evidence  ought,  therefore,  to  decide  the  controversy, 
unless  some  testimony  of  equal  force  could  be  opposed. 

Some  have  imagined  that  they  have  discovered  deep 
learning  in  imitation  of  old  writers;  but  the  examples 
which  I  have  known  urged,  were  drawn  from  books 
translated  in  his  time;  or  were  such  easy  coincidences 
of  thought,  as  will  happen  to  all  who  consider  the  same 
subjects ;  or  such  remarks  on  life  or  axioms  of  mortality 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  139 

as  float  in  conversation,  and  are  transmitted  through 
the  world  in  proverbial  sentences. 

I  have  found  it  remarked,  that,  in  this  important  sen- 
tence, "  Go  before,  I'll  follow,"  we  read  a  translation 
of,  /  'prae  sequar,  I  have  been  told,  that  when  Caliban, 
after  a  pleasing  dream,  says,  "  I  cried  to  sleep  again," 
the  author  imitates  Anacreon,  who  had,  like  every  other 
man  the  same  wish  on  the  same  occasion. 

There  are  a  few  passages  which  may  pass  for  imita- 
tion, but  so  few,  that  the  exception  only  confirms  the 
rule;  he  obtained  them  from  accidental  quotations,  or 
by  oral  communication,  and  as  he  used  what  he  had, 
would  have  used  more  if  he  had  obtained  it. 

"  The  Comedy  of  Errors  "  is  confessedly  taken  from 
the  "  Menaechmi "  of  Plautus ;  from  the  only  play  of 
Plautus  which  was  then  in  English.  What  can  be  more 
probable,  than  that  he  who  copied  that,  would  have 
copied  more ;  but  that  those  which  were  not  translated 
were  inaccessible? 

Whether  he  knew  the  modern  languages  is  uncertain. 
That  his  plays  have  some  French  scenes  proves  but 
little;  he  might  easily  procure  them  to  be  written,  and 
probably,  even  though  he  had  known  the  language  in 
the  common  degree,  he  could  not  have  written  it  without 
assistance.  In  the  story  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet "  he 
is  observed  to  have  followed  the  English  translation, 
where  it  deviates  from  the  Italian;  but  this  on  the 
other  part  proves  nothing  against  his  knowledge  of 
the  original.  He  was  to  copy,  not  what  he  knew  him- 
self, but  what  was  known  to  his  audience. 

It  is  most  likely  that  he  had  learned  Latin  sufficiently 
to  make  him  acquainted  with  construction,  but  that  he 
never    advanced   to    an   easy    perusal   of   the   Roman 


140  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

authors.  Concerning  his  skill  in  modem  languages,  I 
can  find  no  sufficient  ground  of  determination;  but  as 
no  imitations  of  French  or  Italian  authors  have  been 
discovered,  though  the  Italian  poetry  was  then  in  high 
esteem,  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  that  he  read  little  more 
than  English,  and  chose  for  his  fables  only  such  tales 
as  he  found  translated. 

That  much  knowledge  is  scattered  over  his  works  is 
very  justly  observed  by  Pope,  but  it  is  often  such 
knowledge  as  books  did  not  supply.  He  that  will 
understand  Shakespeare,  must  not  be  content  to  study 
him  in  the  closet,  he  must  look  for  his  meaning  some- 
times among  the  sports  of  the  field,  and  sometimes 
among  the  manufactures  of  the  shop. 

There  is,  however,  proof  enough  that  he  was  a  very 
diligent  reader,  nor  was  our  language  then  so  indigent  of 
books,  but  that  he  might  very  liberally  indulge  his  curi- 
osity without  excursions  into  foreign  literature.  Many 
of  the  Roman  authors  were  translated,  and  some  of  the 
Greek;  the  Reformation  had  filled  the  kingdom  with 
theological  learning ;  most  of  the  topicks  of  human  dis- 
quisition had  found  English  writers;  and  poetry  had 
been  cultivated,  not  only  with  diligence,  but  success. 
This  was  a  stock  of  knowledge  sufficient  for  a  mind  so 
capable  of  appropriating  and  improving  it. 

But  the  greater  part  of  his  excellence  was  the 
product  of  his  own  genius.  He  found  the  English 
stage  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  rudeness;  no  essays 
either  in  tragedy  or  comedy  had  appeared,  from  which 
it  could  be  discovered  to  what  degree  of  delight  either 
one  or  the  other  might  be  carried.  Neither  character 
nor  dialogue  were  yet  understood.  Shakespeare  may 
be  truly  said  to  have  introduced  them  both  amongst  us, 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  141 

and  in  some  of  his  happier  scenes  to  have  carried  them 
both  to  the  utmost  height. 

By  what  gradations  of  improvement  he  proceeded,  is 
not  easily  known;  for  the  chronology  of  his  works  is 
yet  unsettled.  Rowe  is  of  opinion  that  perhaps  we 
are  not  to  look  for  his  beginning,  like  those  of  other 
writers,  in  his  least  perfect  works ;  art  had  so  little,  and 
nature  so  large  a  share  in  what  he  did,  that  for  aught  I 
know,  says  he,  the  performances  of  his  youth,  as  they 
were  the  most  vigorous,  were  the  best.  But  the  power 
of  nature  is  only  the  power  of  using  to  any  certain 
purpose  the  materials  which  diligence  procures  or 
opportunity  supplies.  Nature  gives  no  man  knowledge, 
and  when  images  are  collected  by  study  and  experience, 
can  only  assist  in  combining  or  applying  them.  Shake- 
speare, however,  favoured  by  nature,  could  impart  only 
what  he  had  learned ;  and  as  he  must  increase  his  ideas, 
like  other  mortals,  by  gradual  acquisition  he,  like  them, 
grew  wiser  as  he  grew  older,  could  display  life  better, 
as  he  knew  it  more,  and  instruct  with  more  efficacy,  as 
he  was  himself  more  amply  instructed. 

There  is  a  vigilance  of  observation  and  accuracy  of 
distinction  which  books  and  precepts  cannot  confer; 
from  this  almost  all  original  and  native  excellence 
proceeds.  Shakespeare  must  have  looked  upon  man- 
kind with  perspicacity,  in  the  highest  degree  curious 
and  attentive.  Other  writers  borrow  their  characters 
from  preceding  writers,  and  diversify  them  only  hj  the 
accidental  appendages  of  present  manners;  the  dress 
is  a  little  varied,  but  the  body  is  the  same.  Our  author 
had  both  matter  and  form  to  provide;  for,  except  the 
characters  of  Chaucer,  to  whom  I  think  he  is  not  much 
indebted,  there  were  no  writers  in  English,  and  perhaps 


OF   THE 

UMIVERSiTY 


142  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

not  many  in  other  modern  languages,  which  showed 
hfe  in  its  native  colours. 

The  contest  about  the  original  benevolence  or  malig- 
nity of  man,  had  not  yet  commenced.  Speculation  had 
not  yet  attempted  to  analyse  the  mind,  to  trace  the 
passions  to  their  sources,  to  unfold  the  seminal  prin- 
ciples of  vice  and  virtue,  or  sound  the  depths  of  the 
heart  for  the  motives  of  action.  All  those  enquiries, 
which  from  that  time  that  human  nature  became  the 
fashionable  study,  have  been  made  sometimes  with  nice 
discernment,  but  often  with  idle  subtilty,  were  yet  unat- 
tempted.  The  tales,  with  which  the  infancy  of  learn- 
ing was  satisfied,  exhibited  only  the  superficial 
appearances  of  action,  related  the  events,  but  omitted 
the  causes,  and  were  formed  for  such  as  delighted  in 
wonders  rather  than  in  truth.  Mankind  was  not  then 
to  be  studied  in  the  closet;  he  that  would  know  the 
world,  was  under  the  necessity  of  gleaning  his  own 
remarks  by  mingling  as  he  could  in  its  business  and 
amusements. 

Boyle  congratulated  himself  upon  his  high  birth, 
because  it  favoured  his  curiosity,  by  facilitating  his 
access.  Shakespeare  had  no  such  advantage;  he  came 
to  London  a  needy  adventurer,  and  lived  for  a  time  by 
very  mean  employments.  Many  works  of  genius  and 
learning  have  been  performed  in  states  of  life  that 
appear  very  little  favourable  to  thought  or  to  enquiry ; 
so  many,  that  he  who  considers  them  is  inclined  to  think 
that  he  sees  enterprise  and  perseverance  predominating 
over  all  external  agency,  and  bidding  help  and  hin- 
drance vanish  before  them.  The  genius  of  Shakespeare 
was  not  to  be  depressed  by  the  weight  of  poverty  nor 
limited  by  the  narrow  conversation  to  which  men  in 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  143 

want  are  inevitably  condemned;  the  incumbrances  of 
his  fortune  were  shaken  from  his  mind,  as  dew-drops 
from  a  lion's  mane. 

Though  he  had  so  many  difficulties  to  encounter,  and 
so  little  assistance  to  surmount  them,  he  has  been  able 
to  obtain  an  exact  knowledge  of  many  modes  of  Hfe, 
and  many  casts  of  native  dispositions;  to  vary  them 
with  great  multiplicity;  to  mark  them  by  nice  dis- 
tinctions ;  and  to  show  them  in  full  view  by  proper 
combinations.  In  this  part  of  his  performances  he  had 
none  to  imitate,  but  has  himself  been  imitated  by  all 
succeeding  writers ;  and  it  may  be  doubted  whether  from 
all  his  successors  more  maxims  of  theoretical  knowledge, 
or  more  rules  of  practical  prudence,  can  be  collected, 
than  he  alone  has  given  to  his  country. 

Nor  was  his  attention  confined  to  the  actions  of  men; 
he  was  an  exact  surveyor  of  the  inanimate  world;  his 
descriptions  have  always  some  peculiarities,  gathered 
by  contemplating  things  as  they  really  exist.  It  may 
be  observed  that  the  earUest  poets  of  many  nations 
preserve  their  reputation,  and  that  the  following  gen- 
erations of  wit,  after  a  short  celebrity,  sink  into 
oblivion.  The  first,  whoever  they  be,  must  take  their 
sentiments  and  descriptions  immediately  from  knowl- 
edge; the  resemblance  is  therefore  just,  their  descrip- 
tions are  verified  by  every  eye,  and  their  sentiments 
acknowledged  by  every  breast.  Those  whom  their  fame 
invites  to  the  same  studies^  copy  partly  them,  and  partly 
nature,  till  the  books  of  one  age  gain  such  authority,  as 
to  stand  in  the  place  of  nature  to  another,  and  imitation, 
always  deviating  a  little,  becomes  at  last  capricious  and 
casual.  Shakespeare,  whether  life  or  nature  be  his 
subject,  shows  plainly    that  he  has  seen  with  his  own 


144.  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

eyes;  he  gives  the  image  which  he  receives,  not  weak- 
ened or  distorted  by  the  intervention  of  any  other 
mind;  the  ignorant  feel  his  representations  to  be  just, 
and  the  learned  see  that  they  are  complete. 

Perhaps  it  would  not  be  easy  to  find  any  author,  except 
Homer,  who  invented  so  much  as  Shakespeare,  who  so 
much  advanced  the  studies  which  he  cultivated,  or 
effused  so  much  novelty  upon  his  age  or  country.  The 
form,  the  character,  the  language,  and  the  shows  of 
the  English  drama  are  his.  "  He  seems,"  says  Dennis, 
"  to  have  been  the  very  original  of  our  English  tragical 
harmony,  that  is,  the  harmony  of  blank  verse,  diversified 
often  by  dissyllable  and  trissyllable  terminations.  For 
the  diversity  distinguishes  it  from  heroick  harmony, 
and  by  bringing  it  nearer  to  common  use  makes  it  more 
proper  to  gain  attention,  and  more  fit  for  action  and 
dialogue.  Such  verse  we  make  when  we  are  writing 
prose;  we  make  such  verse  in  common  conversation." 

I  know  not  whether  this  praise  is  rigorously  just.  The 
dissyllable  termination,  which  the  critick  rightly  appro- 
priates to  the  drama,  is  to  be  found,  though  I  think  not 
in  Gorboduc, *  which  is  confessedly  before  our  author; 
yet  in  Hieronymo,  ^  of  which  the  date  is  not  certain, 
but  which  there  is  reason  to  believe  at  least  as  old  as  his 
earliest  plays.  This,  however,  is  certain,  that  he  is  the 
first  who  taught  either  tragedy  or  comedy  to  please, 
there  being  no  theatrical  piece  of  any  older  writer,  of 
which  the  name  is  known,  except  to  antiquaries  and  col- 

*"Gorboduc,  or  Ferrex  and  PoUex,"  the  first  tragedy  written  in 
the  English  tongue;  by  Thos.  Norton  and  Thos.  Sackville.  The 
latter  became  Earl  of  Dorset  and  Lord  High  Treasurer  of 
England.  The  tragedy  was  performed  as  early  as  1561  and 
published  in  1565. 

''By  Thos.  Kyd. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  145 

lectors  of  books,  which  are  sought  because  they  are 
scarce,  and  would  not  have  been  scarce,  had  they  been 
much  esteemed. 

To  him  we  must  ascribe  the  praise,  unless  Spenser 
may  divide  it  with  him,  of  having  first  discovered  to  how 
much  smoothness  and  harmony  the  English  language 
could  be  softened.  He  has  speeches,  perhaps  sometimes 
scenes,  which  have  all  the  delicacy  of  Rowe,  without  his 
effeminacy.  He  endeavours  indeed  commonly  to  strike 
by  the  force  and  vigour  of  his  dialogue,  but  he  never 
executes  his  purpose  better  than  when  he  tries  to  sooth 
by  softness. 

Yet  it  must  be  at  last  confessed,  that  as  we  owe  every- 
thing to  him,  he  owes  something  to  us ;  that,  if  much  of 
his  praise  is  paid  by  perception  and  judgment,  much  is 
likewise  given  by  custom  and  veneration.  We  fix  our 
eyes  upon  his  graces,  and  turn  them  from  his  deformi- 
ties, and  endure  in  him  what  we  should  in  another  loath 
or  despise.  If  we  endure  without  praising,  respect  for 
the  father  of  our  drama  might  excuse  us;  but  I  have 
seen,  in  the  book  of  some  modem  critick,  a  collection  of 
anomalies,  which  show  that  he  has  corrupted  language 
by  every  mode  of  depravation,  but  which  his  admirer 
has  accumulated  as  a  monument  of  honour. 

He  has  scenes  of  undoubted  and  perpetual  excellence, 
but  perhaps  not  one  play,  which,  if  it  were  now  exhib- 
ited as  the  work  of  a  contemporary  writer,  would  be 
heard  to  the  conclusion.  I  am  indeed  far  from  think- 
ing that  his  works  were  wrought  to  his  own  ideas  of 
perfection;  when  they  were  such  as  would  satisfy  the 
audience,  they  satisfied  the  writer.  It  is  seldom  that 
authors,  though  more  studious  of  fame  than  Shake- 
speare, rise  much  above  the  standard  of  their  own  age ; 


146  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

to  add  a  little  to  what  is  best  will  always  be  sufficient 
for  present  praise,  and  those  who  find  themselves 
exalted  into  fame,  are  willing  to  credit  their  encomiasts-, 
and  to  spare  the  labour  of  contending  with  themselves. 

It  does  not  appear  that  Shakespeare  thought  his 
works  worthy  of  their  posterity,  that  he  levied  any  ideal 
tribute  upon  future  times,  or  had  any  further  prospects 
than  of  present  popularity  and  present  profit.  When 
his  plays  had  been  acted  his  hope  was  at  an  end;  he 
solicited  no  addition  of  honour  from  the  reader.  He 
therefore  made  no  scruple  to  repeat  the  same  jests  in 
many  dialogues,  or  to  entangle  different  plots  by  the 
same  knot  of  perplexity,  which  may  be  at  least  forgiven 
him,  by  those  who  recollect,  that  of  Congreve's  four 
comedies,  two  are  concluded  by  a  marriage  in  a  mask; 
by  a  deception,  which  perhaps  never  happened,  and 
which,  whether  likely  or  not,  he  did  not  invent. 

So  careless  was  this  great  poet  of  future  fame,  that, 
though  he  retired  to  ease  and  plenty,  while  he  was  yet 
little  declined  into  the  vale  of  years,  before  he  could  be 
disgusted  with  fatigue,  or  disabled  by  infirmity,  he 
made  no  collection  of  his  works,  nor  desired  to  rescue 
those  that  had  been  already  published  from  the  deprava- 
tions that  obscured  them,  or  secure  to  the  rest  a  better 
destiny,  by  giving  them  to  the  world  in  their  genuine 
state. 

Of  the  plays  which  bear  the  name  of  Shakespeare  in 
the  late  editions,  the  greater  part  were  not  published 
till  about  seven  years  after  his  death,  and  the  few  which 
appeared  in  his  life,  are  apparently  thrust  into  the 
world  without  the  care  of  the  author,  and  therefore 
probably  without  his  knowledge. 

Of  all  the  publishers,   clandestine   or   professed,  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S  PLAYS  147 

negligence  and  unskilfulness  has  by  the  late  revisers, 
been  sufficiently  shown.  The  faults  of  all  are  indeed 
numerous  and  gross,  and  have  not  only  corrupted  many 
passages  perhaps  beyond  recovery,  but  have  brought 
others  into  suspicion,  which  are  only  obscured  by  obso- 
lete phraseology,  or  by  the  writer's  unskilfulness  and 
affectation.  To  alter  is  more  easy  than  to  explain,  and 
temerity  is  a  more  common  quality  than  diligence. 
Those  who  saw  that  they  must  employ  conjecture  to  a 
certain  degree,  were  willing  to  indulge  it  a  little  further. 
Had  the  author  published  his  own  works,  we  should 
have  sat  quietly  down  to  disentangle  his  intricacies, 
and  clear  his  obscurities;  but  now  we  tear  what  we 
cannot  loose,  and  eject  what  we  happen  not  to  un- 
derstand. 

The  faults  are  more  than  could  have  happened  without 
the  concurrence  of  many  causes.  The  style  of  Shake- 
speare was  in  itself  ungrammatical,  perplexed,  and 
obscure;  his  works  were  transcribed  for  the  players  by 
those  who  may  be  supposed  to  have  seldom  understood 
them;  they  were  transmitted  by  copiers  equally 
unskilful,  who  still  multiplied  errors;  they  were,  per- 
haps, sometimes  mutilated  by  the  actors,  for  the  sake  of 
shortening  the  speeches;  and  were  at  last  printed 
without  correction  of  the  press. 

In  this  state  they  remained,  not  as  Dr.  Warburton 
supposed,  because  they  were  unregarded,  but  because 
the  editor's  art  was  not  yet  applied  to  modem 
languages,  and  our  ancestors  were  accustomed  to  so 
much  negligence  of  English  printers,  that  they  could 
very  patiently  endure  it.  At  last  an  edition  was  under- 
taken by  Rowe ;  not  because  a  poet  was  to  be  published 
by  a  poet,  for  Rowe  seems  to  have  thought  very  little  on 


I 


148  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

correction  or  explanation,  but  that  our  author's  works 
might  appear  like  those  of  his  fraternity,  with  the 
appendages  of  a  life  and  recommendatory  preface. 
Rowe  has  been  clamorously  blamed  for  not  performing 
what  he  did  not  undertake,  and  it  is  time  that  justice  be 
done  him,  by  confessing,  that  though  he  seems  to  have 
had  no  thought  of  corruption  beyond  the  printer's 
errors,  yet  he  has  made  many  emendations,  if  they  were 
not  made  before,  which  his  successors  have  received 
without  acknowledgment,  and  which,  if  they  had  pro- 
duced them,  would  have  filled  pages  and  pages  with 
censures  of  the  stupidity  by  which  the  faults  were  com- 
mitted, with  displays  of  the  absurdities  which  they 
involved,  with  ostentatious  expositions  of  the  new  read- 
ing, and  self-congratulations  on  the  happiness  of 
discovering  it. 

As  of  the  other  editors  I  have  preserved  the  prefaces, 
I  have  likewise  borrowed  the  author's  life  from  Rowe, 
though  not  written  with  much  elegance  or  spirit;  it 
relates,  however,  what  is  now  to  be  known,  and  therefore 
deserves  to  pass  through  all  succeeding  publications. 

The  nation  had  been,  for  many  years,  content  enough 
with  Mr.  Rowe's  performance,  when  Mr.  Pope  made 
them  acquainted  with  the  true  state  of  Shakespeare's 
text,  showed  that  it  was  extremely  corrupt,  and  gave 
reason  to  hope  that  there  was  means  of  reforming  it. 
Pie  collated  the  old  copies,  which  none  had  thought  to 
examine  before,  and  restored  many  lines  to  their  integ- 
rity; but,  by  a  very  compendious  criticism,  he  rejected 
whatever  he  disliked,  and  thought  more  of  amputation 
than  of  cure. 

I  know  not  why  he  is  commended  by  Dr.  Warburton 
for  distinguishing  the  genuine  from  the  spurious  plays. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  149 

In  this  choice  he  exerted  no  judgment  of  his  own;  the 
plays  which  he  received,  were  given  to  Hemings  and 
Condel,  the  first  editors;  and  those  which  he  rejected; 
though,  according  to  the  Hcentiousness  of  the  press  in 
those  times,  they  were  printed  during  Shakespeare's 
life,  with  his  name,  had  been  omitted  by  his  friends,  and 
were  never  added  to  his  works  before  the  edition  of 
1664,  from  which  they  were  copied  by  the  latter 
printers. 

This  was  a  work  which  Pope  seems  to  have  thought 
unworthy  of  his  abilities,  being  not  able  to  suppress  his 
contempt  of  the  dull  duty  of  an  editor.  He  understood 
but  half  his  undertaking.  The  duty  of  a  collator  is 
indeed  dull,  yet  like  other  tedious  tasks  is  very  neces- 
sary ;  but  an  emendatory  critick  would  ill  discharge  his 
duty,  without  qualities  very  different  from  dullness. 
In  perusing  a  corrupted  piece,  he  must  have  before  him 
all  possibilities  of  meaning,  with  all  possibilities 
of  expression.  Such  must  be  his  comprehension  of 
thought,  and  such  his  copiousness  of  language.  Out  of 
many  readings  possible,  he  must  be  able  to  select  that 
which  best  suits  with  the  state,  opinions,  and  modes  of 
language  prevailing  in  every  age,  and  with  his  author's 
particular  cast  of  thought  and  turn  of  expression. 
Such  must  be  his  knowledge,  and  such  his  taste.  Con- 
jectural criticism  demands  more  than  humanity  pos- 
sesses, and  he  that  exercises  it  with  most  praise,  has 
very  frequent  need  of  indulgence.  Let  us  now  be  told 
no  more  of  the  dull  duty  of  an  editor.  Confidence  is  the 
common  consequence  of  success.  They  whose  excellence 
of  any  kind  has  been  loudly  celebrated,  are  ready  to 
conclude  that  their  powers  are  universal.  Pope's  edition 
fell  below  his  own  expectations,  and  he  was  so  much 


150  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

offended,  when  he  was  found  to  have  left  any  thing  for 
others  to  do,  that  he  passed  the  latter  part  of  his  life 
in  a  state  of  hostility  with  verbal  criticism. 

I  have  retained  all  his  notes,  that  no  fragment  of  so 
great  a  writer  may  be  lost ;  his  preface,  valuable  alike 
for  elegance  of  composition  and  justness  of  remark, 
and  containing  a  general  criticism  on  his  author,  so 
extensive  that  little  can  be  added,  and  so  exact  that 
little  can  be  disputed,  every  editor  has  an  interest  to 
suppress,  but  that  every  reader  would  demand  its 
insertion. 

Pope  was  succeeded  by  Theobald,  a  man  of  narrow 
comprehension,  and  small  acquisitions,  with  no  native 
and  intrinsick  splendour  of  genius,  with  little  of  the 
artificial  light  of  learning,  but  zealous  for  minute 
accuracy,  and  not  negligent  in  pursuing  it.  He  col- 
lated the  ancient  copies,  and  rectified  many  errors.  A 
man  so  anxiously  scrupulous  might  have  been  expected 
to  do  more,  but  what  little  he  did  was  commonly 
right. 

In  his  report  of  copies  and  editions  he  is  not  to  be 
trusted  without  examination.  He  speaks  sometimes 
indefinitely  of  copies,  when  he  has  only  one.  In  his 
enumeration  of  editions,  he  mentions  the  first  two 
folios  as  of  high,  and  the  third  folio  as  of  middle  author- 
ity; but  the  truth  is,  that  the  first  is  equivalent  to  all 
others,  and  that  the  rest  only  deviate  from  it  by  the 
printer's  negligence.  Whoever  has  any  of  the  folios, 
has  all,  excepting  those  diversities  which  mere  reitera- 
tion of  editions  will  produce.  I  collated  them  all  at  the 
beginning,  but  afterwards    used  only  the  first. 

Of  his  notes  I  have  generally  retained  those  which  he 
retained  himself  in  his  second  edition,  except  when  they 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  151 

were  confuted  by  subsequent  annotators,  or  were  too 
minute  to  merit  preservation.  I  have  sometimes  adopted 
his  restoration  of  a  comma,  without  inserting  the 
panegyrick  in  which  he  celebrated  himself  for  his 
achievement. 

The  exuberant  excrescence  of  his  diction  I  have  often 
lopped,  his  triumphant  exultations  over  Pope  and 
Rowe  I  have  sometimes  suppressed,  and  his  contemptible 
ostentation  I  have  frequently  concealed;  but  I  have  in 
some  places  shown  him,  as  he  would  have  shown  himself, 
for  the  reader's  diversion,  that  the  inflated  emptiness  of 
some  notes  may  justify  or  excuse  the  contraction  of 
the  rest. 

Theobald,  thus  weak  and  ignorant,  thus  mean  and 
faithless,  thus  petulant  and  ostentatious,  by  the  good 
luck  of  having  Pope  for  his  enemy,  has  escaped,  and 
escaped  alone,  with  reputation,  from  this  undertaking. 
So  willingly  does  the  world  support  those  who  solicit 
favour,  against  those  who  command  reverence;  and  so 
easily  is  he  praised,  whom  no  man  can  envy. 

Our  author  fell  then  into  the  hands  of  Sir  Thomas 
Hanmer,  the  Oxford  editor,  a  man,  in  my  opinion,  emi- 
nently qualified  by  nature  for  such  studies.  He  had, 
what  is  the  first  requisite  to  emendatory  criticism,  that 
intuition  by  which  the  poet's  intention  is  immediately  dis- 
covered, and  that  dexterity  of  intellect  which  despatches 
its  work  by  the  easiest  means.  He  had  undoubtedly 
read  much;  his  acquaintance  with  customs,  opinions, 
and  traditions,  seems  to  have  been  large ;  and  he  is  often 
learned  without  show.  He  seldom  passes  what  he  does 
not  understand,  without  an  attempt  to  find  or  to  make  a 
meaning,  and  some  times  hastily  makes  what  a  little 
more  attention  would  have  found.     He  is  solicitous  to 


I 


152  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

reduce  to  grammar,  what  he  could  not  be  sure  that  his 
author  intended  to  be  grammatical.  Shakespeare 
regarded  more  the  series  of  ideas,  than  of  words;  and 
his  language,  not  being  designed  for  the  reader's  desk, 
was  all  that  he  desired  it  to  be,  if  it  conveyed  his 
meaning  to  the  audience. 

Hanmer's  care  of  the  metre  has  been  too  violently 
censured.  He  found  the  measure  reformed  in  so  many 
passages,  by  the  silent  labours  of  some  editors,  with 
the  silent  acquiescence  of  the  rest,  that  he  thought  him- 
self allowed  to  extend  a  little  further  the  licence,  which 
had  already  been  carried  so  far  without  reprehension; 
and  of  his  corrections  in  general,  it  must  be  confessed, 
that  they  are  often  just,  and  made  commonly  with  the 
least  possible  violation  of  the  text. 

But,  by  inserting  his  emendations,  whether  invented 
or  borrowed,  into  the  page,  without  any  notice  of  vary- 
ing copies,  he  has  appropriated  the  labour  of  his 
predecessors,  and  made  his  own  edition  of  little 
authority.  His  confidence,  indeed,  both  in  himself  and 
others,  was  too  great ;  he  supposed  all  to  be  right  that 
was  done  by  Pope  and  Theobald;  he  seems  not  to  sus- 
pect a  critick  of  fallibility,  and  it  was  but  reasonable 
that  he  should  claim  what  he  so  liberally  granted. 

As  he  never  writes  without  careful  enquiry  and  dili- 
gent consideration,  I  have  received  all  his  notes,  and 
believe  that  every  reader  will  wish  for  more. 

Of  the  last  editor  it  is  more  difficult  to  speak.  Respect 
is  due  to  high  place,  tenderness  to  Hving  reputation, 
and  veneration  to  genius  and  learning ;  but  he  cannot  be 
justly  offended  at  the  liberty  of  which  he  has  himself  so 
frequently  given  an  example,  nor  very  solicitous  what 
is  thought  of  notes,  which  he  ought  never  to  have  con- 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  153 

sidered  as  part  of  his  serious  employment,  and  which,  I 
suppose,  since  the  ardour  of  composition  is  remitted,  he 
no  longer  numbers  among  his  happy  effusions. 

The  original  and  predominant  error  of  his  com- 
mentary is  acquiescence  in  his  first  thoughts ;  that  pre- 
cipitation which  is  produced  by  consciousness  of  quick 
discernment;  and  that  confidence  which  presumes  to  do, 
by  surveying  the  surface,  what  labour  only  can  per- 
form, by  penetrating  the  bottom.  His  notes  exhibit 
sometimes  perverse  interpretations,  and  sometimes  im- 
probable conjectures;  he  at  one  time  gives  the  author 
more  profundity  of  meaning  than  the  sentence  admits, 
and  at  another  discovers  absurdities,  where  the  sense  is 
plain  to  every  other  reader.  But  his  emendations  are 
hkewise  often  happy  and  just;  and  his  interpretation  of 
obscure  passages  learned  and  sagacious. 

Of  his  notes,  I  have  commonly  rejected  those,  against 
which  the  general  voice  of  the  publick  has  exclaimed,  or 
which  their  own  incongruity  immediately  condemns,  and 
which,  I  suppose  the  author  himself  would  desire  to  be 
forgotten.  Of  the  rest,  to  part  I  have  given  the  highest 
approbation,  by  inserting  the  offered  reading  in  the 
text;  part  I  have  left  to  the  judgment  of  the  reader, 
as  doubtful,  though  specious ;  and  part  I  have  censured 
without  reserve,  but  I  am  sure  without  bitterness  of 
malice,  and,  I  hope,  without  wantonness  of  insult. 

It  is  no  pleasure  to  me,  in  revising  my  volumes,  to 
observe  how  much  paper  is  wasted  in  confutation. 
Whoever  considers  the  revolutions  of  learning,  and  the 
various  questions  of  greater  or  less  importance,  upon 
which  wit  and  reason  have  exercised  their  powers,  must 
lament  the  unsuccessfulness  of  enquiry,  and  the  slow 
advances  of  truth,  when  he  reflects,  that  great  part  of 


164  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

the  labour  of  every  writer  is  only  the  destruction  of 
those  that  went  before  him.  The  first  care  of  the 
builder  of  a  new  system  is  to  demolish  the  fabricks 
which  are  standing.  The  chief  desire  of  him  that 
comments  an  author,  is  to  show  how  much  other 
commentators  have  corrupted  and  obscured  him.  The 
opinions  prevalent  in  one  age,  as  truths  above  the  reach 
of  controversy,  are  confuted  and  rejected  in  another, 
and  rise  again  to  reception  in  remoter  times.  Thus  the 
human  mind  is  kept  in  motion  without  progress.  Thus 
sometimes  truth  and  error,  and  sometimes  contrarieties 
of  error,  take  each  other's  place  by  reciprocal  invasion. 
The  tide  of  seeming  knowledge  which  is  poured  over 
one  generation,  retires  and  leaves  another  naked  and 
barren ;  the  sudden  meteors  of  intelligence,  which  for  a 
while  appear  to  shoot  their  beams  into  the  regions  of 
obscurity,  on  a  sudden  withdraw  their  lustre,  and  leave 
mortals  again  to  grope  their  way. 

These  elevations  and  depressions  of  renown,  and  the 
contradictions  to  which  all  improvers  of  knowledge  must 
for  ever  be  exposed,  since  they  are  not  escaped  by  the 
highest  and  brightest  of  mankind,  may  surely  be 
endured  with  patience  by  criticks  and  annotators,  who 
can  rank  themselves  but  as  the  satellites  of  their 
authors.  How  canst  thou  beg  for  life,  says  Homer's 
hero  to  his  captive,  when  thou  knowest  that  thou  art 
now  to  suffer  only  what  must  another  day  be  suffered 
by  Achilles.? 

Dr.  Warburton  had  a  name  sufficient  to  confer 
celebrity  on  those  who  could  exalt  themselves  into 
antagonists,  and  his  notes  have  raised  a  clamour  too 
loud  to  be  distinct.  His  chief  assailants  are  the  authors 
of  "  The  Canons  of  Criticism,"  and  of  "  The  Revisal  of 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  155 

Shakespeare's  Text  " ;  of  whom  one  ridicules  his  errors 
with  airy  petulance,  suitable  enough  to  the  levity  of  the 
controversy ;  the  other  attacks  them  with  gloomy  malig- 
nity, as  if  he  were  dragging  to  justice  an  assassin  or 
incendiary.  The  one  stings  like  a  fly,  sucks  a  little 
blood,  takes  a  gay  flutter,  and  returns  for  more;  the 
other  bites  like  a  viper,  and  would  be  glad  to  leave 
inflammations  and  gangrene  behind  him.  When  I  think 
on  one,  with  his  confederates,  I  remember  the  danger  of 
Coriolanus,  who  was  afraid  that  girls  with  spits,  and 
boys  with  stones,  should  slay  him  in  puny  battle;  when 
the  other  crosses  my  imagination,  I  remember  the 
prodigy  in  "  Macbeth  " : 

"A  falcon  tow'ring  in  his  pride  of  place. 
Was  by  a  mousing  owl  hawk'd  at  and  kill'd.*' 

Let  me,  however,  do  them  justice.  One  is  a  wit,  and 
one  a  scholar.  They  have  both  shown  acuteness  suf- 
ficient in  the  discovery  of  faults,  and  have  both  advanced 
some  probable  interpretations  of  obscure  passages ;  but 
when  they  aspire  to  conjecture  and  emendation,  it 
appears  how  falsely  we  all  estimate  our  own  abilities, 
and  the  little  which  they  have  been  able  to  perform 
might  have  taught  them  more  candour  to  the  en- 
deavours of  others. 

Before  Dr.  Warburton's  edition,  "  Critical  Observation 
on  Shakespeare,"  had  been  published  by  Mr.  Upton,  a 
man  skilled  in  languages,  and  acquainted  with  books, 
but  who  seems  to  have  had  no  great  vigour  of  genius  or 
nicety  of  taste.  Many  of  his  explanations  are  curious 
and  useful,  but  he  likewise,  though  he  professed  to 
oppose  the  licentious  confidence  of  editors,  and  adhere 
to  the  old  copies,  is  unable  to  restrain  the  rage  of 


156  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

emendation,  though  his  ardour  is  ill  seconded  by  his 
skill.  Every  cold  empirick,  when  his  heart  expanded  by 
a  successful  experiment,  swells  into  a  theorist,  and  the 
laborious  collator  at  some  unlucky  moment  frolicks  in 
conjecture.  . 

Critical,  historical,  and  explanatory  notes  have  been  \ 
likewise  published  upon  Shakespeare  by  Dr.  Grey,  whose 
diligent  perusal  of  the  old  English  writers  has  enabled 
him  to  make  some  useful  observations.  What  he  under- 
took he  has  well  enough  performed,  but  as  he  neither 
attempts  judicial  nor  emendatory  criticisms,  he  em- 
ploys rather  his  memory  than  his  sagacity.  It  were 
to  be  wished  that  all  would  endeavour  to  imitate  his 
modesty,  who  have  not  been  able  to  surpass  his 
knowledge. 

I  can  say  with  great  sincerity  of  all  my  predecessors, 
what  I  hope  will  hereafter  be  said  of  me,  that  not  one 
has  left  Shakespeare  without  improvement,  nor  is  there 
one  to  whom  I  have  not  been  indebted  for  assistance  and 
information.  Whatever  I  have  taken  from  them,  it  was' 
my  intention  to  refer  to  its  original  author,  and  it  is 
certain,  that  what  I  have  not  given  to  another,  I  believe 
when  I  wrote  it  to  be  my  own.  In  some,  perhaps,  I  have 
been  anticipated;  but  if  I  am  ever  found  to  encroach 
upon  the  remarks  of  any  other  commentator,  I  am  will- 
ing that  the  honour,  be  it  more  or  less,  should  be 
transferred  to  the  first  claimant,  for  his  right,  and  his 
alone,  stands  above  dispute;  the  second  can  prove  his 
pretensions  only  to  himself,  nor  can  himself  always 
distinguish  invention,  with  sufficient  certainty,  from 
recollection. 

They  have  all  been  treated  by  me  with  candour,  which 
they  have  not  been  careful  of  observing  to  one  another. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  157 

It  IS  not  easy  to  discover  from  what  cause  the  acrimony 
of  a  scholiast  can  naturally  proceed.  The  subjects  to 
be  discussed  by  him  are  of  very  small  importance ;  they 
involve  neither  property  nor  liberty;  nor  favour  the 
interest  of  sect  or  party.  The  various  readings  of 
copies,  and  different  interpretations  of  a  passage,  seem 
to  be  questions  that  might  exercise  the  wit,  without 
engaging  the  passions.  But  whether  it  be,  that  small 
things  make  mean  men  proud,  and  vanity  catches  small 
occasions ;  or  that  all  contrariety  of  opinion,  even  in 
those  that  can  defend  it  no  longer,  makes  proud  men 
angry;  there  is  often  found  in  commentaries  a  spon- 
taneous strain  of  invective  and  contempt,  more  eager 
and  venomous  than  is  vented  by  the  most  furious  con- 
trovertist  in  politicks  against  those  whom  he  is  hired 
to  defame. 

Perhaps  the  lightness  of  the  matter  may  conduce  to 
the  vehemence  of  the  agency;  when  the  truth  to  be 
investigated  is  so  near  to  inexistence  as  to  escape 
attention,  its  bulk  is  to  be  enlarged  by  rage  and 
exclamation:  that  to  which  all  would  be  indifferent  in 
its  original  state  may  attract  notice  when  the  fate  of  a 
name  is  appended  to  it.  A  commentator  has  indeed 
great  temptations  to  supply  by  turbulence  what  he 
wants  of  dignity,  to  beat  his  little  gold  to  a  spacious 
surface,  to  work  that  to  foam  which  no  art  or  diHgence 
can  exalt  to  spirit. 

The  notes  which  I  have  borrowed  or  written,  are  either 
illustrative,  by  which  difficulties  are  explained;  or 
judicial,  by  which  faults  and  beauties  are  remarked;  or 
emendatory,  by  which  depravations  are  corrected. 

The  explanations  transcribed  from  others,  if  I  do  not 
subjoin  any  other  interpretation,  I  suppose  commonly 


158  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

to  be  right,  at  least  I  intend  by  acquiescence  to  confess 
that  I  have  nothing  better  to  propose. 

After  the  labours  of  all  the  editors,  I  found  many 
passages,  which  appeared  to  me  likely  to  obstruct  the 
greater  number  of  readers,  and  thought  it  my  duty  to 
facilitate  their  passage.  It  is  impossible  for  the  expos- 
itor not  to  write  too  little  for  some,  and  too  much  for 
others.  He  can  only  judge  what  is  necessary  by  his 
own  experience ;  and  how  long  soever  he  may  deliberate, 
will  at  last  explain  many  lines  which  the  learned  will 
think  impossible  to  be  mistaken,  and  omit  many  for 
which  the  ignorant  will  want  his  help.  These  are  cen- 
sures merely  relative,  and  must  be  quietly  endured.  I 
have  endeavoured  to  be  neither  superfluously  copious, 
nor  scrupulously  reserved,  and  hope  that  I  have  made 
my  author's  meaning  accessible  to  many,  who  before 
were  frighted  from  perusing  him,  and  contributed  some- 
thing to  the  publick,  by  diffusing  innocent  and  rational 
pleasure. 

The  complete  explanation  of  an  author  not  syste- 
matick  and  consequential,  but  desultory  and  vagrant, 
abounding  in  casual  allusions  and  light  hints,  is  not  to 
be  expected  from  any  single  scholiast.  All  personal 
reflections,  when  names  are  suppressed,  must  be  in  a  few 
years  irrecoverably  obliterated ;  and  customs,  too  minute 
to  attract  the  notice  of  law,  yet  such  as  modes  of  dress, 
formalities  of  conversation,  rules  of  visits,  disposition 
of  furniture,  and  practices  of  ceremony,  which  natur- 
ally find  places  in  familiar  dialogue,  are  so  fugitive  and 
unsubstantial  that  they  are  not  easily  retained  or 
recovered.  What  can  be  known  will  be  collected  by 
chance,  from  the  recesses  of  obscure  and  obsolete 
papers,  pursued  commonly  with  some  other  view.     Of 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  159 

this  knowledge  every  man  has  some,  and  none  has  much ; 
but  when  an  author  has  engaged  the  publick  attention, 
those  who  can  add  any  thing  to  his  illustration,  com- 
municate their  discoveries,  and  time  produces  what  had 
eluded  diligence. 

To  time  I  have  been  obliged  to  resign  many  passages, 
which,  though  I  did  not  understand  them,  will  perhaps 
hereafter  be  explained,  having,  I  hope,  illustrated 
some,  which  others  have  neglected  or  mistaken,  some- 
times by  short  remarks,  or  marginal  directions,  such  as 
every  editor  has  added  at  his  will,  and  often  by  com- 
ments more  laborious  than  the  matter  will  seem  to 
deserve;  but  that  which  is  most  difficult  is  not  always 
most  important,  and  to  an  editor  nothing  is  a  trifle  by 
which  his  author  is  obscured. 

The  poetical  beauties  or  defects  I  have  not  been  very 
diligent  to  observe.  Some  plays  have  more,  and  some 
fewer  judicial  observations,  not  in  proportion  to  their 
difference  of  merit,  but  because  I  gave  this  part  of  my 
design  to  chance,  and  to  caprice.  The  reader,  I  believe, 
is  seldom  pleased  to  find  his  opinion  anticipated;  it  is 
natural  to  delight  more  in  what  we  find  or  make,  than  in 
what  we  receive.  Judgment,  like  other  faculties,  is 
improved  by  practice,  and  its  advancement  is  hindered 
by  submission  to  dictatorial  decisions,  as  the  memory 
grows  torpid  by  the  use  of  a  table-book.  Some  initiation 
is  however  necessary ;  of  all  skill,  part  is  infused  by  pre- 
cept, and  part  is  obtained  by  habit;  I  have,  therefore, 
shown  so  much  as  may  enable  the  candidate  of 
criticism  to  discover  the  rest. 

To  the  end  of  most  plays  I  have  added  short  strictures, 
containing  a  general  censure  of  faults,  or  praise  of 
excellence;  in  which  I  know  not  how  much  I  have  con- 


160  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

curred  with  the  current  opinion ;  but  I  have  not,  by  any 
affectation  or  singularity,  deviated  from  it.  Nothing 
is  minutely  and  particularly  examined,  and  therefore, 
it  is  to  be  supposed  that  in  the  plays  which  are  con- 
demned there  is  much  to  be  praised,  and  in  these  which 
are  praised  much  to  be  condemned. 

The  part  of  criticism  in  which  the  whole  succession  of 
editors  has  laboured  with  the  greatest  diligence,  which 
has  occasioned  the  most  arrogant  ostentation,  and 
excited  the  keenest  acrimony,  is  the  emendation  of  cor- 
rupted passages,  to  which  the  publick  attention  having 
been  first  drawn  by  the  violence  of  the  contention 
between  Pope  and  Theobald,  has  been  continued  by  the 
persecution,  which,  with  a  kind  of  conspiracy,  has  been 
since  raised  against  all  the  publishers  of  Shakespeare. 

That  many  passages  have  passed  in  a  state  of  depra- 
vation through  all  the  editions  is  indubitably  certain ;  of 
these,  the  restoration  is  only  to  be  attempted  by  colla- 
tion of  copies,  or  sagacity  of  conjecture.  The  col- 
lator's province  is  safe  and  easy,  the  conjecturer's 
perilous  and  difficult.  Yet  as  the  greater  part  of  the 
plays  are  extant  only  in  one  copy,  the  peril  must  not 
be  avoided,  nor  the  difficulty  refused. 

Of  the  readings  which  this  emulation  of  amendment 
has  hitherto  produced,  some  from  the  labours  of  every 
publisher  I  have  advanced  into  the  text ;  those  are  to  be 
considered  as  in  my  opinion  sufficiently  supported; 
some  I  have  rejected  without  mention,  as  evidently 
erroneous ;  some  I  have  left  in  the  notes  without  censure 
or  approbation,  as  resting  in  equipoise  between  objec- 
tion and  defence;  and  some,  which  seemed  specious 
but  not  right,  I  have  inserted  with  a  subsequent 
animadversion. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  161 

Having  classed  the  observations  of  others,  I  was  at 
last  to  try  what  I  could  substitute  for  their  mistakes, 
and  how  could  I  supply  their  omissions.  I  collated  such 
copies  as  I  could  procure,  and  wished  for  more,  but 
have  not  found  the  collectors  of  these  rarities  very 
communicative.  Of  the  editions  which  chance  or  kind- 
ness put  into  my  hands  I  have  given  an  enumeration, 
that  I  may  not  be  blamed  for  neglecting  what  I  had 
not  the  power  to  do. 

By  examining  the  old  copies,  I  soon  found  that  the 
later  publishers,  with  all  their  boasts  of  diligence,  suf- 
fered many  passages  to  stand  unauthorized,  and 
contented  themselves  with  Rowe's  regulation  of  the 
text,  even  where  they  knew  it  to  be  arbitrary,  and  with 
a  little  consideration  might  have  found  it  to  be  wrong. 
Some  of  these  alterations  are  only  the  ejection  of  a  word 
for  one  that  appeared  to  him  more  elegant  or  more  intel- 
ligible. 

These  corruptions  I  have  often  silently  rectified; 
for  the  history  of  our  language,  and  the  true  force  of 
our  words,  can  only  be  preserved  by  keeping  the  text  of 
authors  free  from  adulteration.  Others,  and  those  very 
frequent,  smoothed  the  cadence,  or  regulated  the 
measure ;  on  these  I  have  not  exercised  the  same  rigour ; 
if  only  a  word  was  transposed,  or  a  particle  inserted  or 
omitted,  I  have  sometimes  suffered  the  line  to  stand ;  for 
the  inconstancy  of  the  copies  is  such,  as  that  some  liber- 
ties may  be  easily  permitted.  But  this  practice  I  have 
not  suffered  to  proceed  far,  having  restored  the  primi- 
tive diction  wherever  it  could  for  any  reason  be  pre- 
ferred. 

The  emendations,  which  comparison  of  copies  sup- 
plied, I  have  inserted  in  the  text ;  sometimes,  where  the 


162  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

improvement  was  slight,  without  notice,  and  sometimes 
with  an  account  of  the  reasons  of  the  change. 

Conjecture,  though  it  be  sometimes  unavoidable,  I  have 
not  wantonly  nor  licentiously  indulged.  It  has  been  my 
settled  principle,  that  the  reading  of  the  ancient  books 
is  probably  true,  and  therefore  is  not  to  be  disturbed 
for  the  sake  of  elegance,  perspicuity,  or  mere  improve- 
ment of  the  sense.  For  though  much  credit  is  not  due 
to  the  fidelity,  nor  any  to  the  judgment  of  the  first  pub- 
lishers, yet  they  who  had  the  copy  before  their  eyes  were 
more  likely  to  read  it  right,  than  we  who  read  it  only 
by  imagination.  But  it  is  evident  that  they  have  often 
made  strange  mistakes  by  ignorance  or  negligence,  and 
that,  therefore,  something  may  be  properly  attempted 
by  criticism,  keeping  the  middle  way  between  presump- 
tion and  timidity. 

Such  criticism  I  have  attempted  to  practice,  and  where 
any  passage  appeared  inextricably  perplexed,  have  en- 
deavored to  discover  how  it  may  be  recalled  to  sense, 
with  least  violence.  But  my  first  labour  is,  always  to 
turn  the  old  text  on  every  side,  and  try  if  there  be  any 
interstice,  through  which  light  can  find  its  way;  nor 
would  Huetius  himself  condemn  me,  as  refusing  the 
trouble  of  research,  for  the  ambition  of  alteration.  In 
this  modest  industry,  I  have  not  been  unsuccessful.  I 
have  rescued  many  lines  from  the  violations  of  temerity, 
and  secured  many  scenes  from  the  inroads  of  correction. 
I  have  adopted  the  Roman  sentiment  that  it  is  more 
honourable  to  save  a  citizen  than  to  kill  an  enemy,  and 
have  been  more  careful  to  protect  than  to  attack. 

I  have  preserved  the  common  distribution  of  the  plays 
into  acts,  though  I  believe  it  to  be  in  almost  all  the  plays 
void  of  authority.     Some  of  those  which  are  divided  in 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  163 

the  later  editions  have  no  division  in  the  first  folio,  and 
some  that  are  divided  in  the  folio  have  no  division  in 
the  preceding  copies.  The  settled  mode  of  the  theatre 
requires  four  intervals  in  the  play,  but  few,  if  any,  of 
our  author's  compositions  can  be  properly  distributed 
in  that  manner.  An  act  is  so  much  of  the  drama  as 
passes  without  intervention  of  time,  or  change  of  place. 
A  pause  makes  a  new  act.  In  every  real,  and  therefore 
in  every  imitative  action,  the  intervals  may  be  more  or 
fewer,  the  restriction  of 'five  acts  being  accidental  and 
arbitrary.  This  Shakespeare  knew,  and  this  he  prac- 
tised ;  his  plays  were  written,  and  at  first  printed  in  one 
unbroken  continuity,  and  ought  now  to  be  exhibited  with 
short  pauses,  interposed  as  often  as  the  scene  is  changed, 
or  any  considerable  time  is  required  to  pass.  This 
method  would  at  once  quell  a  thousand  absurdities. 

In  restoring  the  author's  works  to  their  integrity,  I 
have  considered  the  punctuation  as  wholly  in  my  power ; 
for  what  could  be  their  care  of  colons  and  commas,  who 
corrupted  words  and  sentences?  Whatever  could  be 
done  by  adjusting  points,  is  therefore  silently  per- 
formed, in  some  plays,  with  much  diligence,  in  others 
with  less;  it  is  hard  to  keep  a  busy  eye  steadily  fixed 
upon  evanescent  atoms,  or  a  discursive  mind  upon 
evanescent  truth. 

The  same  liberty  has  been  taken  with  a  few  particles, 
or  other  words  of  slight  effect.  I  have  sometimes  in- 
serted or  omitted  them  without  notice.  I  have  done  that 
sometimes,  which  the  other  editors  have  done  always, 
and  which,  indeed,  the  state  of  the  text  may  sufiiciently 
justify. 

The  greater  part  of  readers,  instead  of  blaming  us  for 
passing  trifles,  will  wonder  that  on  mere  trifles  so  much 


164  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

labour  Is  expended,  with  such  importance  of  debate,  and 
such  solemnity  of  diction.  To  these  I  answer  with  con- 
fidence, that  they  are  judging  of  an  art  which  they  do 
not  understand;  yet  cannot  much  reproach  them  with 
their  ignorance,  nor  promise  that  they  would  become  in 
general,  by  learning  criticism,  more  useful,  happier,  or 
wiser. 

As  I  practised  conjecture  more,  I  learned  to  trust  it 
less;  and  after  I  had  printed  a  few  plays,  resolved  to 
insert  none  of  my  own  readings  in  the  text.  Upon  this 
caution  I  now  congratulate  myself,  for  every  day  in- 
creases my  doubt  of  my  emendations. 

Since  I  have  confined  my  imagination  to  the  margin, 
it  must  not  be  considered  as  very  reprehensible,  if  I 
have  suffered  it  to  play  some  freaks  in  its  own  dominion. 
There  is  no  danger  in  conjecture,  if  it  be  proposed  as 
conjecture;  and  while  the  text  remains  uninjured,  those 
changes  may  be  safely  offered,  which  are  not  considered 
even  by  him  that  offers  them  as  necessary  or  safe. 

If  my  readings  are  of  little  value,  they  have  not  been 
ostentatiously  displayed  or  importunately  obtruded.  I 
could  have  written  longer  notes,  for  the  art  of  writing 
notes  is  not  of  difficult  attainment.  The  work  is  per- 
formed first  by  railing  at  the  stupidity,  negligence, 
ignorance,  and  asinine  tastelessness  of  the  former 
editors,  showing,  from  all  that  goes  before  and  all  that 
follows,  the  inelegance  and  absurdity  of  the  old  read- 
ing ;  then  by  proposing  something,  which  to  superficial 
readers  would  seem  specious,  but  which  the  editor  rejects 
with  indignation;  then  by  producing  the  true  reading, 
with  a  long  paraphrase,  and  concluding  with  loud  accla- 
mations on  the  discovery,  and  a  sober  wish  for  the 
advancement  and  prosperity  of  genuine  criticism. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  165 

All  this  may  be  done,  and  perhaps  done  sometimes  with- 
out impropriety.  But  I  have  always  suspected  that  the 
reading  is  right,  which  requires  many  words  to  prove 
it  wrong;  and  the  emendation  wrong,  that  cannot  with- 
out so  much  labour  appear  to  be  right.  The  justness 
of  a  happy  restoration  strikes  at  once,  and  the  moral 
precept  may  be  well  applied  to  criticism,  quod  duhitas 
ne  feceris. 

To  dread  the  shore  which  he  sees  spread  with  wrecks, 
is  natural  to  the  sailor.  I  had  before  my  eye,  so  many 
critical  adventures  ended  in  miscarriage,  that  caution 
was  forced  upon  me.  I  encountered  in  every  page  wit 
struggling  with  its  own  sophistry,  and  learning  con- 
fused by  the  multiplicity  of  its  views.  I  was  forced 
to  censure  those  whom  I  admired,  and  could  not  but 
reflect,  while  I  was  dispossessing  their  emendations,  how 
soon  the  same  fate  might  happen  to  my  own,  and  how 
many  of  the  readings  which  I  have  corrected  may  be  by 
some  other  editor  defended  and  established. 

**  Criticks  I  saw,  that  others,  names  eflface. 
And  fix  their  own,  with  labour,  in  the  place; 
Their  own,  like  others,  soon  their  place  resigned. 
Or  disappear'd,  and  left  the  first  behind." — Pope, 

That  a  conjectural  critick  should  often  be  mistaken, 
cannot  be  wonderful,  either  to  others,  or  himself,  if  it 
be  considered,  that  in  his  art  there  is  no  system,  no  prin- 
cipal and  axiomatical  truth  that  regulates  subordinate 
positions.  His  chance  of  error  is  renewed  at  every  at- 
tempt; an  oblique  view  of  the  passage,  a  slight  misap- 
prehension of  a  phrase,  a  casual  inattention  to  the  parts 
connected,  is  sufficient  to  make  him  not  only  fail,  but  fail 
ridiculously;  and  when  he  succeeds  best  he  produces 


166  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

perhaps  but  one  reading  of  many  probable,  and  he  that 
suggests  another  will  always  be  able  to  dispute  his 
claims. 

It  is  an  unhappy  state,  in  which  danger  is  hid  under 
pleasure.  The  allurements  of  emendation  are  scarcely 
resistible.  Conjecture  has  all  the  joy  and  all  the  pride 
of  invention,  and  he  that  has  once  started  a  happy 
change,  is  too  much  delighted  to  consider  what  objec- 
tions may  rise  against  it. 

Yet  conjectural  criticism  has  been  of  great  use  in  the 
learned  world ;  nor  is  it  my  intention  to  depreciate  a 
study,  that  has  exercised  so  many  mighty  minds,  from 
the  revival  of  learning  to  our  own  age,  from  the  Bishop 
of  Aleria  ^  to  English  Bentley.  The  criticks  on  ancient 
authors  have,  in  the  exercise  of  their  sagacity,  many 
assistances,  which  the  editor  of  Shakespeare  is  con- 
demned to  want.  They  are  employed  upon  grammatical 
and  settled  languages,  whose  construction  contributes 
so  much  to  perspicuity,  that  Homer  has  fewer  passages 
unintelligible  than  Chaucer.  The  words  have  not  only 
a  known  regimen,  but  invariable  quantities,  which 
direct  and  confine  the  choice.  There  are  commonly  more 
manuscripts  than  one;  and  they  do  not  often  conspire 
in  the  same  mistakes.  Yet  Scaliger  could  confess  to 
Salmasius  how  little  satisfaction  his  emendations  gave 
him.  Illudunt  nobis  conjecturoe,  quarum  nos  pudet, 
posteaqucmi  in  meliores  codices  incidimus.  And  Lipsius 
could  complain,  that  criticks  were  making  faults,  by 
trying  to  remove  them,  Ut  olim  vitiis,  ita  nunc  remediis 
labor atur.      And  indeed,  when  mere  conjecture  is  to  be 

"John  Andreas,  Bishop  of  Aleria,  a  province  of  Corsica.  He 
edited  and  published  several  classic  authors  under  the  patronage 
of  Pope  Paul  II. — Note  by  Steevena. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  167 

used,  the  emendations  of  Scaliger  and  Lipsius,  not- 
withstanding their  wonderful  sagacity  and  erudi- 
tion, are  often  vague  and  disputable,  like  mine  or 
Theobald's. 

Perhaps  I  may  not  be  more  censured  for  doing  wrong 
than  for  doing  little ;  for  raising  in  the  publick  expecta- 
tions which  at  last  I  have  not  answered.  The  expectation 
of  ignorance  is  indefinite,  and  that  of  knowledge  is  often 
tyrannical.  It  is  hard  to  satisfy  those  who  know  not 
what  to  demand,  or  those  who  demand  by  design  what 
they  think  impossible  to  be  done.  I  have  indeed  dis- 
appointed no  opinion  more  than  my  own;  yet  I  have 
endeavoured  to  perform  my  task  with  no  slight  solici- 
tude. Not  a  single  passage  in  the  whole  work  has  ap- 
peared to  me  corrupt,  which  I  have  not  attempted  to 
restore;  or  obscure,  which  I  have  not  endeavoured  to 
illustrate.  In  many  I  have  failed  like  others ;  and  from 
many,  after  all  my  efforts,  I  have  retreated,  and  con- 
fessed the  repulse.  I  have  not  passed  over,  with  affected 
superiority,  what  is  equally  difficult  to  the  reader  and  to 
myself,  but  where  I  could  not  instruct  him,  have  owned 
my  ignorance.  I  might  easily  have  accumulated  a  mass 
of  seeming  learning  upon  easy  scenes ;  but  it  ought  not 
to  be  imputed  to  negligence,  that,  where  nothing  was 
necessary,  nothing  has  been  done,  or  that,  where  others 
have  said  enough,  I  have  said  no  more. 

Notes  are  often  necessary,  but  they  are  necessary  evils. 
Let  him,  that  is  yet  unacquainted  with  the  powers  of 
Shakespeare,  and  who  desires  to  feel  the  highest  pleasure 
that  the  drama  can  give,  read  every  play,  from  the  first 
scene  to  the  last,  with  utter  negligence  of  all  his  commen- 
tators. When  his  fancy  is  once  on  the  wing,  let  it  not 
stoop  at  correction  or  explanation.    When  his  attention 


168  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

is  strongly  engaged,  let  it  disdain  alike  to  turn  aside 
to  the  name  of  Theobald  and  of  Pope.  Let  him  read  on 
through  brightness  and  obscurity,  through  integrity 
and  corruption;  let  him  preserve  his  comprehension  of 
the  dialogue  and  his  interest  in  the  fable.  And  when 
the  pleasures  of  novelty  have  ceased,  let  him  attempt 
exactness,  and  read  the  commentators. 

Particular  passages  are  cleared  by  notes,  but  the  gen- 
eral effect  of  the  work  is  weakened.  The  mind  is  re- 
frigerated by  interruption;  the  thoughts  are  diverted 
from  the  principal  subject;  the  reader  is  weary,  he  sus- 
pects not  why ;  and  at  last  throws  away  the  book  which 
he  has  too  diHgently  studied. 

Parts  are  not  to  be  examined  till  the  whole  has  been 
surveyed;  there  is  a  kind  of  intellectual  remoteness 
necessary  for  the  comprehension  of  any  great  work  in 
its  full  design  and  in  its  true  proportions;  a  close  ap- 
proach shows  the  smaller  niceties,  but  the  beauty  of  the 
whole  is  discerned  no  longer. 

It  is  not  very  grateful  to  consider  how  little  the  suc- 
cession of  editors  has  added  to  this  author's  power  of 
pleasing.  He  was  read,  admired,  studied,  and  imitated, 
while  he  was  yet  deformed  with  all  the  improprieties 
which  ignorance  and  neglect  could  accumulate  upon 
him ;  while  the  reading  was  yet  not  rectified,  nor  his  allu- 
sions understood ;  yet  then  did  Dryden  pronounce,  "  that 
Shakespeare  was  the  man  who,  of  all  modern  and  perhaps 
ancient  poets,  had  the  largest  and  most  comprehensive 
soul.  All  the  images  of  nature  were  still  present  to  him, 
and  he  drew  them  not  laboriously,  but  luckily ;  when  he 
describes  anything,  you  more  than  see  it,  you  feel  it,  too. 
Those,  who  accuse  him  to  have  wanted  learning,  give 
him  the  greater  commendation ;  he  was  naturally  learned ; 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  169 

he  needed  not  the  spectacles  of  books  to  read  nature; 
he  looked  inwards,  and  found  her  there.  I  cannot  say 
he  is  everywhere  alike ;  were  he  so,  I  should  do  him  injury 
to  compare  him  with  the  greatest  of  mankind.  He  is 
many  times  flat  and  insipid ;  his  comic  wit  degenerating 
into  clenches,  his  serious  swelling  into  bombast.  But 
he  is  always  great,  when  some  great  occasion  is  pre- 
sented to  him:  no  man  can  say,  he  ever  had  a  fit  subject 
for  his  wit,  and  did  not  then  raise  himself  as  high  above 
the  rest  of  poets. 

" '  Quantum  lenta  solent  inter  viburna  cupressi.' " 

It  is  to  be  lamented,  that  such  a  writer  should  want  a 
commentary ;  that  his  language  should  become  obsolete, 
or  his  sentiments  obscure.  But  it  is  vain  to  carry 
wishes  beyond  the  condition  of  human  things ;  that  which 
must  happen  to  all,  has  happened  to  Shakespeare,  by 
accident  and  time;  and  more  than  has  been  suffered  by 
any  other  writer  since  the  use  of  types,  has  been  suf- 
fered by  him  through  his  own  negligence  of  fame,  or 
perhaps,  by  that  superiority  of  mind,  which  despised  its 
own  performances,  when  it  compared  them  with  its 
powers,  and  judged  those  works  unworthy  to  be  pre- 
served, which  the  criticks  of  following  ages  were  to 
contend  for  the  fame  of  restoring  and  explaining. 

Among  these  candidates  of  inferior  fame,  I  am  now 
to  stand  the  judgment  of  the  publick;  and  wish  that  I 
could  confidently  produce  my  commentary  as  equal  to 
the  encouragement  which  I  have  had  the  honour  of 
receiving.  Every  work  of  this  kind  is  by  its  nature 
deficient,  and  I  should  feel  little  solicitude  about  the 
sentence,  were  it  to  be  pronounced  only  by  the  skillful 
and  the  learned. 


170  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Of  what  has  been  performed  in  this  revisal,  an  account 
is  given  in  the  following  pages  by  Mr.  Steevens,  '^  who 
might  have  spoken  both  of  his  own  diligence  and  sagac- 
ity, in  terms  of  greater  self  approbation,  without 
deviating  from  modesty  or  truth. 

'The  final  paragraph  refers  to  the  second  edition  with  added 
notes  by  George  Steevens,  published  in  1773. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  171 


GEORGE     STE EVENS 

1736-1800 

GEORGE  STEEVENS  was  born  in  Stepney, 
May  10,  1736,  and  died  in  his  hermit 
^retreat  at  Hampstead,  January  22,  1800. 
He  was  educated  at  Eton  and  Cambridge, 
although  he  received  from  the  latter  no  degree. 
Unlike  his  great  associate.  Dr.  Johnson,  Shake- 
spearean criticism  was  his  vocation;  to  it  he  devoted 
his  life,  and  to  such  good  account,  that  the  text 
he  left  behind  him  remained  the  standard  for  quite  half 
a  century,  and  is  the  basis  of  many  modern  editions. 

He  first  made  a  departure  from  the  beaten  track  of 
Shakespearean  criticism,  in  that  he  devoted  his  virgin 
pen  to  the  Quartos  instead  of  the  Folio  copies.  These 
he  published  in  1766,  under  the  title  "  Twenty  of  the 
Plays  of  Shakespeare,  being  the  whole  number  printed 
in  quarto  during  his  life-time,  or  before  the  Res- 
toration." 

In  collaboration  with  Dr.  Johnson,  and  assisted  in  a 
very  moderate  degree  by  Edmund  Malone,  he  issued  a 
ten  volume  edition  in  1773;  revised  in  1778;  which 
became  the  basis  for  Isaac  Reed's  edition  of  1793.  In 
1779  he  published  Six  Old  Plays  upon  which  Shake- 
speare founded  the  plays  of  "Measure  for  Measure," 
"  Comedy  of  Errors,"  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew,"  "  King 
John,"  "  King  Lear,"  «  Henry  IV.,"  and  "  Henry  V." 

Steevens  was  a  man  of  most  uncertain  temper,  which 
manifested  itself  in  his  literary  as  well  as  his  domestic 


172  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

life.  He  was  led  by  a  saturnine  humour  to  play  mis- 
chievous practical  jokes  of  a  literary  turn,  and  used 
both  the  forged  letter  and  the  anonymous  libel  to 
further  his  ends. 

His  vitriolic  jesting  led  him  even  to  make  obscene  notes 
to  coarse  passages  in  the  plays,  and  by  some  peculiar 
diabolism  to  attribute  these  comments  to  two  amiable 
clergymen,  whose  names  he  mentioned. 

No  wonder  that  when  he  died  Samuel  Rogers  wrote  of 
him,  "  the  outlaw  is  at  last  dead  in  his  den." 

The  student  of  Shakespeare  owes  him  an  enonnous 
debt. 

GEORGE    STEEVENS'S    ADVERTISEMENT    TO 

THE    READER 

[Prefixed  to  Mr.  Steevens's  edition  of  twenty  of  the  old  quarto 
copies  of  Shakespeare,  etc.,  in  4  volumes,  8vo.    1766.] 

The  plays  of  Shakespeare  have  been  so  often  repub- 
lished, with  every  seeming  advantage  which  the  joint 
labours  of  men  of  the  first  abilities  could  procure  for 
them,  that  one  would  hardly  imagine  they  could  stand 
in  need  of  anything  beyond  the  illustration  of  some 
few  dark  passages.  Modes  of  expression  must  remain 
in  obscurity,  or  be  retrieved  from  time  to  time,  as  chance 
may  throw  the  books  of  that  age  into  the  hands  of  crit- 
icks  who  shall  make  a  proper  use  of  them.  Many  have 
been  of  opinion  that  his  language  will  continue  difficult 
to  all  those  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  provincial 
expressions  which  they  suppose  him  to  have  used;  yet 
for  my  own  part,  I  cannot  believe  but  that  those  which 
are  now  local  may  once  have  been  universal,  and  must 
have  been  the  language  of  those  persons  before  whom 
his  plays  were  represented.    However,  it  is  certain,  that 


i 


GEORGE  STEEVENS 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  173 

the  instances  of  obscurity  from  this  source  are  very  few. 
Some  have  been  of  opinion  that  even  a  particular 
syntax  prevailed  in  the  time  of  Shakespeare;  but,  as  I 
do  not  recollect  that  any  proofs  were  ever  brought  in 
support  of  that  sentiment,  I  own  I  am  of  the  contrary 
opinion. 

In  this  time  indeed  a  different  arrangement  of  sylla- 
bles had  been  introduced  in  imitation  of  the  Latin,  as  we 
find  in  Ascham ;  and  the  verb  was  frequently  kept  back 
in  the  sentence;  but  in  Shakespeare  no  marks  of  it  are 
discernible;  and  though  the  rules  of  syntax  were  more 
strictly  observed  by  the  writers  of  that  age  than  they 
have  been  since,  he  of  all  the  number  is  perhaps,  the 
most  ungrammatical.  To  make  his  meaning  intel- 
ligible to  his  audience  seems  to  have  been  his  only  care, 
and  with  the  ease  of  conversation  he  has  adopted  its 
incorrectness. 

The  past  editors,  eminently  qualified  as  they  were 
by  genius  and  learning  for  this  undertaking,  wanted 
industry;  to  cover  which  they  published  catalogues, 
transcribed  at  random,  of  a  greater  number  of  old 
copies  than  ever  they  can  be  supposed  to  have  had  in 
their  possession;  when,  at  the  same  time,  they  never 
examined  the  few  which  we  know  they  had,  with  any 
degree  of  accuracy.  The  last  editor  alone  has  dealt 
fairly  with  the  world  in  this  particular ;  he  professes  to 
have  made  use  of  no  more  than  he  had  really  seen,  and 
has  annexed  a  list  of  such  to  every  play,  together  with  a 
complete  one  of  those  supposed  to  be  in  being,  at  the 
the  conclusion  of  his  work,  whether  he  had  been  able  to 
procure  them  for  the  service  of  it  or  not. 

For  these  reasons  I  thought  it  would  not  be  unaccept- 
able to  the  lovers  of   Shakespeare  to  collate   all   the 


I 


174  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

quartos  I  could  find,  comparing  one  copy  with  the  rest, 
where  there  were  more  than  one  of  the  same  play;  and 
to  multiply  the  chances  of  their  being  preserved,  by 
collecting  them  into  volumes,  instead  of  leaving  the  few 
that  have  escaped,  to  share  the  fate  of  the  rest,  which 
was  probably  hastened  by  their  remaining  in  the  form 
of  pamphlets,  their  use  and  value  being  equally  unknown 
to  those  into  whose  hands  they  fell. 

Of  some  I  have  printed  more  than  one  copy;  as  there 
are  many  persons,  who,  not  contented  with  the  pos- 
session of  a  finished  picture  of  some  great  master, 
are  desirous  to  procure  the  first  sketch  that  was  made 
for  it,  that  they  may  have  the  pleasure  of  tracing  the 
progress  of  the  artist  from  the  first  light  colouring  to 
the  finishing  stroke.  To  such  the  earlier  editions  of 
"  King  John,"  "  Henry  the  Fifth,"  "  Henry  the  Sixth," 
"  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  and  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet,"  will,  I  apprehend,  not  be,  unwelcome ;  since  in 
these  we  may  discern  as  much  as  will  be  found  in  the 
hasty  outlines  of  the  pencil,  with  a  fair  prospect  of  that 
perfection  to  which  he  brought  every  performance  he 
took  the  pains  to  retouch. 

The  general  character  of  the  quarto  editions  may  more 
advantageously  be  taken  from  the  words  of  Mr.  Pope, 
than  from  any  recommendation  of  my  own. 

"  The  folio  edition  (says  he),  in  which  all  the  plays  we 
now  receive  as  his  were  first  collected,  was  published  by 
two  players,  Hemings  and  Condell,  in  1623,  seven  years 
after  his  decease.  They  declare  that  all  the  other 
editions  were  stolen  and  surreptitious,  and  affirm  theirs 
to  be  purged  from  the  errors  of  the  former.  This  is 
true  as  to  the  literal  errors,  and  no  other;  for  in  all 
respects  else  it  is  far  worse  than  the  quartos. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  176 

"  First,  because  the  additions  of  trifling  and  bombast 
passages  are  in  this  edition  far  more  numerous.  For 
whatever  had  been  added  since  those  quartos,  by 
the  actors,  or  had  stolen  from  their  mouths  into 
the  written  parts,  were  from  thence  conveyed  into 
the  printed  text,  and  all  stand  charged  upon  the 
author.  He  himself  complained  of  this  usage  in 
'  Hamlet,'  where  he  wishes  those  who  play  the  clowns 
would  speak  no  more  than  is  set  down  for  them,  (Act 
HI.  sc.  iv) .  But  as  a  proof  that  he  could  not  escape  it, 
in  the  old  editions  of  *  Romeo  and  Juliet,'  there  is  no 
hint  of  the  mean  conceits  and  ribaldries  now  to  be  found 
there.  In  others,  the  scenes  of  the  mobs,  plebeians, 
and  clowns  are  vastly  shorter  than  at  present;  and  I 
have  seen  one  in  particular  (which  seems  to  have 
belonged  to  the  play-house,  by  having  the  parts  divided 
by  lines,  and  the  actors'  names  in  the  margin),  where 
several  of  those  very  passages  were  added  in  a  written 
hand,  which  since  are  to  be  found  in  the  folio. 

"In  the  next  place,  a  number  of  beautiful  passages 
were  omitted,  which  were  extant  in  the  first  single 
editions ;  as  it  seems  without  any  other  reason  than  their 
willingness  to  shorten  some  scenes."  ^ 

To  this  I  must  add,  that  I  cannot  help  looking  on  the 
folio  as  having  suffered  other  injuries  from  the  licen- 
tious alteration  of  the  players ;  as  we  frequently  find  in  it 
an  unusual  word  changed  into  one  more  popular ;  some- 
times to  the  weakening  of  the  sense,  which  rather  seems 
to  have  been  their  work,  who  knew  that  plainness  was 
necessary  for  the  audience  of  an  illiterate  age,  than 
that  it  was  done  by  the  consent  of  the  author:  for  he 
would  hardly  have  unnerved  a  line  in  his  written  copy, 
*  Pope's  Preface,  p.  42. 


176  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

which  they  pretend  to  have  transcribed,  however  he 
might  have  permitted  many  to  have  been  familiarised 
in  the  representation.  Were  I  to  indulge  my  own 
private  conjecture,  I  should  suppose  that  his  blotted 
manuscripts  were  read  over  by  one  to  another  among 
those  who  were  appointed  to  transcribe  them ;  and  hence 
it  would  easily  happen,  that  words  of  similiar  sound, 
though  of  sense  directly  opposite,  might  be  confounded 
with  each  other.  They  themselves  declare  that  Shake- 
speare's time  of  blotting  was  past,  and  yet  half  the 
errors  we  find  in  their  edition  could  not  be  merely  typo- 
graphical. Many  of  the  quartos  (as  our  own  printers 
assume),  were  far  from  being  skilfully  executed,  and 
some  of  them  were  much  more  correctly  printed  than 
the  Folio,  which  was  published  at  the  charge  of  the 
same  proprietors,  whose  names  we  find  prefixed  to  the 
older  copies;  and  I  cannot  join  with  Mr.  Pope  in 
acquitting  that  edition  of  more  literal  errors  than  those 
which  went  before  it.  The  particles  in  it  seem  to  be 
as  fortuitously  disposed,  and  proper  names  as  fre- 
quently undistinguished  by  Italick  or  capital  letters 
from  the  rest  of  the  text.  The  punctuation  is  equally 
accidental;  nor  do  I  see,  on  the  whole,  any  greater 
marks  of  a  skilful  revisal,  or  the  advantage  of  being 
printed  from  unblotted  originals  in  the  one,  than  in  the 
other.  One  reformation  indeed  there  seems  to  have  been 
made,  and  that  very  laudable;  I  mean  the  substitution 
of  more  general  terms  for  a  name  too  often  unneces- 
sarily invoked  on  the  stage;  but  no  jot  of  obscenity  is 
omitted:  and  their  caution  against  profaneness  is,  in 
my  opinion,  the  only  thing  for  which  we  are  indebted  to 
the  judgment  of  the  editors  of  the  folio. 
How  much  may  be  done  by  the  assistance  of  the  old 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  177 

copies  will  now  be  easily  known ;  but  a  more  difficult  task 
remains  behind,  which  calls  for  other  abilities  than  are 
requisite  In  the  laborious  collator. 

From  a  diligent  perusal  of  the  comedies  of  con- 
temporary authors,  I  am  persuaded  that  the  meaning 
of  many  expressions  In  Shakespestre  might  be  retrieved ; 
for  the  language  of  conversation  can  only  be  expected 
to  be  preserved  In  works  which  in  their  time  assume  the 
merit  of  being  pictures  of  men  and  manners.  The  style 
of  conversation  we  may  suppose  to  be  as  much  altered 
as  that  of  books;  and,  in  consequence  of  the  change, 
we  have  no  other  authorities  to  recur  to  in  either 
case. 

Should  our  language  ever  be  recalled  to  a  strict  exam- 
ination, and  the  fashion  become  general  of  striving  to 
maintain  our  old  acquisitions,  Instead  of  gaining  new 
ones,  which  we  shall  be  at  last  obliged  to  give  up,  or 
be  Incumbered  with  their  weight ;  It  will  then  be  lamented 
that  no  regular  collection  was  ever  formed  of  the  old 
English  books;  from  which,  as  from  ancient  reposi- 
tories, we  might  recover  words  and  phrases  as  often  as 
caprice  or  wantonness  should  call  for  variety;  Instead 
of  thinking  it  necessary  to  adopt  new  ones,  or  barter 
solid  strength  for  feeble  splendour,  which  no  language 
has  long  admitted  and  retained  its  purity. 

We  wonder  that,  before  the  time  of  Shakespeare,  we 
find  the  stage  in  a  state  so  barren  of  productions,  but 
forget  that  we  have  hardly  any  acquaintance  with  the 
authors  of  that  period,  though  some  few  of  their 
dramatick  pieces  may  remain.  The  same  might  be 
almost  said  of  the  Interval  between  that  age  and  the 
age  of  Dryden,  the  performances  of  which,  not  being 
preserved  In  sets,  or  diffused  as  now,  by  the  greater 


i 


178  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

number  printed,  must  lapse  apace  into  the  same  ob- 
scurity. 

"  Vixere  fortes  ante  Agamemnona 
Multi    .    .    /' 

And  yet  we  are  contented  from  a  few  specimens 
only,  to  form  our  opinions  of  the  genius  of  ages  gone 
before  us.  Even  while  we  are  blaming  the  taste  of  that 
audience  which  received  with  applause  the  worst  plays 
in  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  we  should  consider 
that  the  few  in  possession  of  our  theatre,  which  would 
never  have  been  heard  a  second  time  had  they  been  writ- 
ten now,  were  probably  the  best  of  hundreds  which  had 
been  dismissed  with  general  censure.  The  collection  of 
plays,  interludes,  &c.  made  by  Mr.  Garrick,  with  an  in- 
tent to  deposit  them  hereafter  in  some  publick  library,^ 
will  be  considered  as  a  valuable  acquisition;  for  pam- 
phlets have  never  yet  been  examined  with  a  proper  re- 
gard to  posterity.  Most  of  the  obsolete  pieces  will  be 
found  on  enquiry  to  have  been  introduced  into  libraries 
but  some  few  years  since;  and  yet  those  of  the  present 
age,  which  may  one  time  or  other  prove  as  useful,  are 
still  entirely  neglected.  I  should  be  remiss,  I  am  sure, 
were  I  to  forget  my  acknowledgments  to  the  gentlemau 
I  have  just  mentioned,  to  whose  benevolence  I  owe  the 
use  of  several  of  the  scarcest  quartos,  which  I  could  not 
otherwise  have  obtained;  though  I  advertised  for  them, 
with  sufficient  offers,  as  I  thought,  either  to  tempt  the 
casual  owner  to  sell,  or  the  curious  to  communicate 
them;  but  Mr.  Garrick's  zeal  would  not  permit  him  to 
withhold  any  thing  that  might  ever  so  remotely  tend  to 
show  the  perfections  of  that  author  who  could  only 
have  enabled  him  to  display  his  own. 

'Now  in  the  British  Museum. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  179 

It  IS  not  merely  to  obtain  justice  to  Shakespeare,  that 
I  have  made  this  collection,  and  advise  others  to  be 
made.  The  general  interest  of  English  literature,  and 
the  attention  due  to  our  own  language  and  history, 
require  that  our  ancient  writings  should  be  diligently 
reviewed.  There  is  no  age  which  has  not  produced 
some  works  that  deserve  to  be  remembered ;  and  as  words 
and  phrases  are  only  understood  by  comparing  them 
in  different  places,  the  lower  writers  must  be  read  for 
the  explanation  of  the  highest.  No  language  can  be 
ascertained  and  settled,  but  by  deducing  its  words  from 
their  original  sources,  and  tracing  them  through  their 
successive  varieties  of  signification;  and  this  deduction 
can  only  be  performed  by  consulting  the  earliest  and 
intermediate  authors. 

Enough  has  already  been  done  to  encourage  us  to  do 
more.  Dr.  Hickes,^  by  reviving  the  study  of  the  Saxon 
language,  seems  to  have  excited  a  stronger  curiosity 
after  old  English  writers,  than  ever  had  appeared 
before.  Many  volumes  which  were  mouldering  in 
dust  have  been  collected ;  many  authors  which  were  for- 
gotten have  been  revived;  many  laborious  catalogues 
have  been  formed;  and  many  judicious  glossaries  com- 
piled; the  literary  transactions  of  the  darker  ages  are 
now  open  to  discovery;  and  the  language  in  its  inter- 
mediate gradations,  from  the  Conquest  to  the  Res- 
toration, is  better  understood  than  in  any  former 
time. 

To  incite  the  continuance,  and  encourage  the  extension 

of  this  domestick  curiosity,  is  one  of  the  purposes  of 

•George  Hickes,  1642-1715.  An  English  clergyman  who,  in  addi- 
tion to  some  theological  works,  published  Institutionea  Oram- 
maticce  Anglo  Saxonioce  (1689),  and  Antiquce  Literaturce 
Septentrionalis  Thesaurus  (1703-5). 


180  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

the  present  publication.  In  the  plays  it  contains,  the 
poet's  first  thoughts,  as  well  as  words,  are  preserved; 
the  additions  made  in  subsequent  impressions,  dis- 
tinguished in  Italicks,  and  the  performances  themselves 
make  their  appearance  with  every  typographical  error, 
such  as  they  were  before  they  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
player-editors.  The  various  readings,  which  can  only 
be  attributed  to  chance,  are  set  down  among  the  rest, 
as  I  did  not  choose  arbitrarily  to  determine  for  others 
which  were  useless,  or  which  were  valuable.  And  many 
words  differing  only  by  the  spelling,  or  serving 
merely  to  show  the  difficulties  which  they  to  whose  lot 
it  first  fell  to  disentangle  their  perplexities  must  have 
encountered,  are  exhibited  with  the  rest.  I  must 
acknowledge  that  some  few  readings  have  slipped  in  by 
mistake,  which  can  pretend  to  serve  no  purpose  of 
illustration,  but  were  introduced  by  confining  myself  to 
note  the  minutest  variations  of  the  copies,  which  soon 
convinced  me  that  the  oldest  were  in  general  the  most 
correct.  Though  no  proof  can  be  given  that  the  poet 
superintended  the  publication  of  any  one  of  these 
himself,  yet  we  have  little  reason  to  suppose  that  he 
who  wrote  at  the  command  of  Elizabeth,  and  under  the 
patronage  of  Southampton,  was  so  very  negligent  of 
his  fame,  as  to  permit  the  most  imcompetent  judges, 
such  as  the  players  were,  to  vary  at  their  pleasure  what 
he  had  set  down  for  the  first  single  editions ;  and  we 
have  better  grounds  for  suspicion  that  his  works  did 
materially  suffer  from  their  presumptuous  corrections 
after  death. 

It  is  very  well  known,  that  before  the  time  of  Shake- 
speare, the  art  of  making  title  pages  was  practised 
with  as  much,  or  perhaps  more,  success  than  it  has  been 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  181 

since.  Accordingly,  to  all  his  plays  we  find  long  and 
descriptive  ones,  which,  when  they  were  first  published, 
were  of  great  service  to  the  venders  of  them.  Pamphlets 
of  every  kind  were  hawked  about  the  streets  by  a  set  of 
people  resembling  his  own  Autolycus,  who  proclaimed 
aloud  the  qualities  of  what  they  offered  to  sale,  and 
might  draw  in  many  a  purchaser  by  the  mirth  he  was 
taught  to  expect  from  the  humours  of  Corporal  Nyiriy 
or  the  swaggering  vaine  of  Auncient  Pistoll,  who  was 
not  to  be  tempted  by  the  representation  of  a  fact  merely 
historical.  The  players,  however,  laid  aside  the  whole 
of  this  garniture,  not  finding  it  so  necessary  to  pro- 
cure success  to  a  bulky  volume,  when  the  author's 
reputation  was  established,  as  it  had  been  to  bespeak 
attention  to  a  few  struggling  pamphlets  while  it  was 
yet  uncertain. 

The  sixteen  plays  which  are  not  in  these  volumes, 
remained  unpublished  till  the  Folio  in  the  year  1623, 
though  the  compiler  of  a  work  called  "  Theatrical 
Records,"  mentions  different  single  editions  of  them  all 
before  that  time.  But  as  no  one  of  the  editors  could 
ever  meet  with  such,  nor  has  any  one  else  pretended  to 
have  seen  them,  I  think  myself  at  liberty  to  suppose 
the  compiler  supplied  the  defects  of  the  list  out  of 
his  own  imagination;  since  he  must  have  had  singular 
good  fortune  to  have  been  possessed  of  two  or  three 
different  copies  of  all,  when  neither  editors  nor  col- 
lectors, in  the  course  of  nearly  fifty  years,  have  been 
able  so  much  as  to  obtain  the  sight  of  one  of  the 
number. 

At  the  end  of  the  last  volume  I  have  added  a  tragedy 
of  "  King  Leir,"  published  before  that  of  Shakespeare, 
which  it  was  not  improbable  he  might  have  seen,  as  the 


182  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

father  kneeling  to  the  daughter,  when  she  kneels  to  ask 
his  blessing,  is  found  in  it;  a  circumstance  two  poets 
were  not  very  likely  to  have  hit  on  separately;  and 
which  seems  borrowed  by  the  latter  with  his  usual  judg- 
ment, it  being  the  most  natural  passage  in  the  whole 
play;  and  is  introduced  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  make 
it  fairly  his  own.  The  ingenious  editor  of  the  "  Reliques 
of  Ancient  English  Poetry  "  having  never  met  with  this 
play,  and  as  it  is  not  preserved  in  Mr.  Garrick's 
collection,  I  thought  it  a  curiosity  worthy  the  notice  of 
the  publick. 

I  have  likewise  reprinted  "  Shakespeare's  Sonnets," 
from  a  copy  published  in  1609,  by  G.  Eld,  one  of  the 
printers  of  his  plays ;  which,  added  to  the  consideration 
that  they  made  their  appearance  with  his  name,  and  in 
his  life-time,  seems  to  be  no  slender  proof  of  their 
authenticity.  The  same  evidence  might  operate  in 
favour  of  several  more  plays  which  are  omitted  here, 
out  of  respect  to  the  judgment  of  those  who  had 
omitted  them  before. 

It  is  to  be  wished  that  some  method  of  publication 
most  favourable  to  the  character  of  an  author  were  once 
established;  whether  we  are  to  send  into  the  world  all 
his  works  without  distinction,  or  arbitrarily  to  leave 
out  what  may  be  thought  a  disgrace  to  him.  The  first 
editors,  who  rejected  "Pericles,"  retained  "Titus 
Andronicus " ;  and  Mr.  Pope,  without  any  reason, 
named  "The  Winter's  Tale,"  a  play  that  bears  the 
strongest  marks  of  the  hand  of  Shakespeare,  among 
those  which  he  supposed  to  be  spurious.  Dr.  War- 
burton  has  fixed  a  stigma  on  the  three  parts  of  "  Henry 
the  Sixth,"  and  some  others: 

"  Inde  Dolabella,  est,  atque  hinc  Antonius;" 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  183 

and  all  have  been  willing  to  plunder  Shakespeare,  or 
mix  up  a  breed  of  barren  metal  with  his  purest  ore. 

Joshua  Barnes,  the  editor  of  "  Euripides,"  thought 
every  scrap  of  his  author  so  sacred,  that  he  has  pre- 
served with  the  name  of  one  of  his  plays,  the  only 
remaining  word  of  it.  The  same  reason  indeed  might  be 
given  in  his  favour,  which  caused  the  preservation  of 
that  valuable  trisyllable;  which  is,  that  it  cannot  be 
found  in  any  other  place  in  the  Greek  language.  But 
this  does  not  seem  to  have  been  his  only  motive,  as  we 
find  he  has  to  the  full  as  carefully  published  several 
detached  and  broken  sentences,  the  gleanings  from 
scholiasts,  which  have  no  claim  to  merit  of  that  kind; 
and  yet  the  author's  works,  might  be  reckoned  by  some 
to  be  incomplete  without  them.  If  then  this  duty  is 
expected  from  every  editor  of  a  Greek  or  Roman  poet, 
why  is  the  same  not  insisted  on  in  respect  of  an  English 
classick.''  But  if  the  custom  of  preserving  all  whether 
worthy  of  it  or  not,  be  more  honoured  in  the  breach, 
than  the  observance,  the  suppression  at  least  should  not 
be  considered  as  a  fault.  The  publication  of  such 
things  as  Swift  had  written  merely  to  raise  a  laugh 
among  his  friends,  has  added  something  to  the  bulk  of 
his  works,  but  very  little  to  his  character  as  a  writer. 
The  four  volumes  that  came  out  since  Dr.  Hawkes- 
worth's  edition,  not  to  look  on  them  as  a  tax  levied  on 
the  publick,  (which  I  think  one  might,  without 
injustice),  contain  not  more  than  sufficient  to  have 
made  one  of  real  value;  and  there  is  a  kind  of  disin- 
genuity,  not  to  give  it  a  harsher  title,  in  exhibiting  what 
the  author  never  meant  should  see  the  light;  for  no 
motive  but  a  sordid  one,  can  betray  the  survivors  to 
make    that    publick,    which    they    themselves    must  be 


184  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

of  opinion  will  be  unfavourable  to  the  memory  of  the 
dead. 

Life  does  not  often  receive  good  unmixed  with  evil. 
The  benefits  of  the  art  of  printing  are  depraved  by  the 
facility  with  which  scandal  may  be  diffused,  and  secrets 
revealed;  and  by  the  temptation  which  traffick  solicits 
avarice  to  betray  the  weaknesses  of  passion,  or  the 
confidence  of  friendship. 

I  cannot  forbear  to  think  these  posthumous  publi- 
cations injurious  to  society.  A  man  conscious  of 
literary  reputation  will  grow  in  time  afraid  to  write 
with  tenderness  to  his  sister,  or  with  fondness  to  his 
child;  or  to  remit  on  the  slightest  occasion,  or  most 
pressing  exigence,  the  rigour  of  critical  choice,  and 
grammatical  severity.  That  esteem  which  preserves  his 
letters,  will  at  last  produce  his  disgrace,  when  that 
which  he  wrote  to  his  friend  or  his  daughter  shall  be 
laid  open  to  the  publick. 

There  is,  perhaps,  sufficient  evidence,  that  most  of 
the  plays  in  question,  unequal  as  they  may  be  to  the 
rest,  were  written  by  Shakespeare;  but  the  reason  gen- 
erally given  for  publishing  the  less  correct  pieces  of  an 
author,  that  it  affords  a  more  impartial  view  of  a  man's 
talents  or  way  of  thinking,  than  when  we  only  see  him 
in  form,  and  prepared  for  our  reception,  is  not  enough 
to  condemn  an  editor  who  thinks  and  practises  other- 
wise. For  what  is  all  this  to  show,  but  that  every  man 
is  more  dull  at  one  time  than  at  another?  A  fact  which 
the  world  would  easily  have  admitted,  without  asking 
any  proofs  in  its  support  that  might  be  destructive  to 
an  author's  reputation. 

To  conclude;  if  the  work,  which  this  publication  was 
meant  to  facilitate,  has  been  already  performed,  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  185 

satisfaction  of  knowing  It  to  be  so  may  be  obtained 
from  hence;  if  otherwise,  let  those  who  raised  expecta- 
tions of  correctness,  and  through  negligence  defeated 
them,  be  justly  exposed  by  future  editors,  who  will  now 
be  in  possession  of  by  far  the  greatest  part  of  what 
they  might  have  enquired  after  for  years  to  no  pur- 
pose ;  for  in  respect  of  such  a  number  of  the  old  Quartos 
as  are  here  exhibited,  the  first  Folio  is  a  common  book. 
Tills  advantage  will  at  least  arise^  that  future  editors 
having  equally  recourse  to  the  same  copies,  can  chal- 
lenge distinction  and  preference  only  by  genius, 
capacity,  industry,  and  learning. 

As  I  have  only  collected  materials  for  future  artists, 
I  consider  what  I  have  been  doing  as  no  more  than  an 
apparatus  for  their  use.  If  the  publick  is  inclined  to 
receive  it  as  such,  I  am  amply  rewarded  for  my  trouble ; 
if  otherwise,  I  shall  submit  with  cheerfulness  to  the 
censure  which  should  equitably  fall  on  an  injudicious 
attempt;  having  this  consolation  however,  that  my 
design  amounted  to  no  more  than  a  wish  to  encourage 
others  to  think  of  preserving  the  oldest  editions  of  the 
English  writers,  which  are  growing  scarcer  every  day; 
and  to  afford  the  world  all  the  assistance  or  pleasure  it 
can  receive  from  the  most  authentick  copies  extant  of  its 
noblest  poet. 


!> 


I 


186  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 


EDWARD    CAPELL 

1713-1781 

EDWARD  CAPELL  was  born  In  Throston, 
Suffolk,  June  11,  1713,  and  died  at  Brill 
Court  Temple,  London,  February  24,  1781. 
He  was  educated  at  Cambridge,  and  in 
1737  received  the  appointment  of  Deputy  Inspector 
of  Plays  with  the  functions  of  a  censor.  This  both 
gave  him  time  and  whetted  his  taste  for  the  study 
of  Elizabethan  dramatic  literature.  His  first  essay  in 
letters  was  "  Prolusions,  or  Select  Pieces  of  Ancient 
Poetry,"  in  which  appeared  the  anonymous  play  of 
"  Edward  III.,"  which  the  editor  tentatively  attributed 
to  Shakespeare. 

In  1768  appeared  his  edition  of  Shakespeare's  works, 
in  ten  volumes.  His  "  Notes  and  Various  Readings  to 
Shakespeare  "  were  published  in  advance  of  the  text  in 
1759,  but  were  withdrawn,  and  the  first  two  volumes, 
revised,  appeared  in  1779.  The  third  volume,  called  the 
"  School  of  Shakespeare,"  appeared  in  1783,  after  his 
death.  The  "  School "  consisted  of  poems,  plays,  etc., 
extant  in  Shakespeare's  time  and  supposed  to  have 
formed  a  part  of  his  literary  capital.  Two  other  works, 
long  since  forgotten,  are  credited  to  Capell,  "  Two 
tables  elucidating  the  sound  of  letters"  (1749), 
"Reflections  in  originality  of  Authors"  (1766).  He 
also  collaborated  with  David  Garrick  in  a  special  edition 
of  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra." 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  187 

EDWARD  CAPELL'S  INTRODUCTION 

[Prepared  to  octavo  edition  in  ten  volumes,  1768.] 

It  is  said  of  the  ostrich,  that  she  drops  her  egg  at 
random,  to  be  dispos'd  of  as  chance  pleases;  either 
brought  to  maturity  by  the  sun's  kindly  warmth,  or 
else  crushed  by  beasts  and  the  feet  of  passers-by :  such 
at  least,  is  the  account  which  naturalists  have  given  us 
of  this  extraordinary  bird ;  and  admitting  it  for  a  truth, 
she  is  in  this  a  fit  emblem  of  almost  every  great  genius : 
they  conceive  and  produce  with  ease  those  noble  issues 
of  human  understanding ;  but  incubation,  the  dull  work 
of  putting  them  correctly  upon  paper  and  afterwards 
publishing,  is  a  task  they  can  not  away  with.^  If  the 
original  state  of  all  such  author's  writings,  even  from 
Homer  downward,  could  be  enquir'd  into  and  known, 
they  would  yield  proof  in  abundance  of  the  justness  of 
what  is  here  asserted:  but  the  author  now  before  us 
shall  suffice  for  them  all;  being  at  once  the  greatest 
instance  of  genius  in  producing  noble  things,  and  of 
negligence  in  providing  for  them  afterwards.  This 
negligence  indeed  was  so  great,  and  the  condition  in 
which  his  works  are  come  down  to  us  so  very  deformed, 
that  it  has,  of  late  years,  induc'd  several  gentlemen  to 
make  a  revision  of  them :  but  the  publick  seems  not  to  be 
satisfied  with  any  of  their  endeavours;  and  the  reason 
of  its  discontent  will  be  manifest,  when  the  state  of 
his  old  editions,  and  the  methods  that  they  have  taken 
to  amend  them,  are  fully  lay'd  open,  which  is  the  first 
business  of  this  Introduction. 

Of  thirty-six  plays  which  Shakespeare  has  left  us,  and 
which  compose  the  collection  that  was  afterwards  set 
out  in  folio,  thirteen  only  were  published  in  his  life- 


188  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

time,  that  have  much  resemblance  to  those  in  the  folio ; 
these  thirteen  are — "  Hamlet,"  First  and  Second 
"Henry  IV.,"  "King  Lear,"  "Love's  Labour's  Lost," 
"  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Midsummer-Night's  Dream," 
"Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  "Richard  IL," 
"  Richard  III.,"  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  "  Titus  Andron- 
icus,"  and  "  Troilus  and  Cressida."  Some  others,  that 
came  out  in  the  same  period,  bear  indeed  the  titles  of — 
"Henry  V.,"  "King  John,"  "Merry  Wives  of 
Windsor,"  and  "Taming  of  the  Shrew,"  but  are  no 
other  than  either  first  draughts,  or  mutilated  and  per- 
haps surreptitious  impressions  of  those  plays,  but 
whether  of  the  two  is  not  easy  to  determine:  "King 
John"  is  certainly  a  first  draught,  and  in  two  parts; 
and  so  much  another  play  that  only  one  line  of  it  is 
retain'd  in  the  second:  there  is  also  a  first  draught  of 
the  Second  and  Third  parts  of  "  Henry  VI.,"  published 
in  his  life  time  under  the  following  title, — "  The  whole 
Contention  between  the  two  famous  Houses,  Lancaster 
and  Yorke  " :  and  to  these  plays,  six  in  number,  may  be 
added  the  first  impression  of  "  Romeo  and  Juliet," 
being  a  play  of  the  same  stamp:  The  date  of  all  these 
quartos,  and  that  of  their  several  re-impressions,  may 
be  seen  in  a  table  that  follows  the  Introduction. 
"  Othello  "  came  out  only  one  year  before  the  folio ;  and 
is,  in  the  main,  the  same  play  that  we  have  there: 
and  this  too,  is  the  case  of  the  first-mentioned  thirteen ; 
notwithstanding  there  are  in  many  of  them  great  varia- 
tions, and  particularly  in  "  Hamlet,"  "  King  Lear," 
"  Richard  III.,"  and  "Romeo  and  Juliet." 

As  for  the  plays  which,  we  say,  are  either  the  poet's 
first  draughts,  or  else  imperfect  and  stolen  copies,  it 
will  be  thought,  perhaps,  they  might  as  well  have  been 
left  out  of  the  account :  but  they  are  not  wholly  useless ; 


I 


EDWARD  CAPELL 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  189 

some  lacunae,  that  are  in  all  the  other  editions,  have  been 
judiciously  fill'd  up  in  modern  impressions  by  the 
authority  of  these  copies;  and  in  some  particular  pas- 
sages of  them,  where  there  happens  to  be  a  greater 
conformity  than  usual  between  them  and  the  more  per- 
fect editions,  there  is  here  and  there  a  various  reading 
that  does  honour  to  the  poet's  judgment,  and  should 
upon  that  account,  be  presum'd  the  true  one;  in  other 
respects,  they  have  neither  use  nor  merit,  but  are 
merely  curiosities. 

Proceed  we  then  to  a  description  of  the  other  fourteen. 
They  all  abound  in  faults,  though  not  in  equal  degree ; 
and  those  faults  are  so  numerous,  and  of  so  many  dif- 
ferent natures,  that  nothing  but  a  perusal  of  the  pieces 
themselves  can  give  an  adequate  conception  of  them; 
but  amongst  them  are  these  that  follow.  Divisions  of 
acts  and  scenes,  they  have  none,  "  Othello "  only 
excepted,  which  is  divided  into  acts:  entries  of  persons 
are  extremely  imperfect  in  them,  (sometimes  more, 
sometimes  fewer,  than  the  scene  requires),  and  their 
exits  are  very  often  omitted ;  or  when  mark'd,  not  always 
in  the  right  place ;  and  few  scenical  directions  are  to  be 
met  with  throughout  the  whole :  speeches  are  frequently 
confounded,  and  given  to  wrong  persons,  either  whole, 
or  in  part ;  and  sometimes,  instead  of  the  person  speak- 
ing, you  have  the  actor  who  presented  him:  and  in  two 
of  the  plays,  (  "Love's  Labour's  Lost,"  and  "  Troilus 
and  Cressida"),  the  same  matter,  and  in  nearly  the 
same  words,  is  set  down  twice  in  some  passages;  which 
who  sees  not  to  be  only  a  negligence  of  the  poet,  and 
that  but  one  of  them  ought  to  have  been  printed?  But 
the  reigning  fault  of  all  is  in  the  measure :  prose  is  very 
often  printed  as  verse,  and  verse  as  prose;  or,  where 
rightly  printed  verse,  that  verse  is  not  always  right 


190  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

divided:  and  in  all  these  pieces,  the  songs  are  in  every 
particular  still  more  corrupt  than  the  other  parts  of 
them.  These  are  the  general  and  principal  defects:  to 
which  if  you  add — transposition  of  words,  sentences, 
lines,  and  even  speeches;  words  omitted,  and  others 
added  without  reason;  and  a  punctuation  so  deficient, 
and  so  often  wrong,  that  it  hardly  deserves  regard ;  you 
have,  upon  the  whole,  a  true  but  melancholy  picture  of 
the  condition  of  these  first  printed  plays :  which  bad  as 
it  is  is  yet  better  than  that  of  those  which  came  after ;  or 
than  that  of  the  subsequent  folio  impression  of  some  of 
these  which  we  are  now  speaking  of. 

This  folio  impression  was  sent  into  the  world  seven 
years  after  the  author's  death,  by  two  of  his  fellow- 
players;  and  contains,  besides  the  last  mention'd  four- 
teen, the  true  and  genuine  copies  of  the  other  six  plays, 
and  sixteen  that  were  never  publish'd  before :  the  editors 
make  great  professions  of  fidelity,  and  some  complaint 
of  injury  done  to  them  and  the  author  by  stolen  and 
maim'd  copies,  giving  withal  an  advantageous,  if  just, 
idea  of  the  copies  which  they  have  f  ollow'd ;  but  see  the 
terms  they  make  use  of :  "  It  had  been  a  thing,  we  con- 
fesse,  worthie  to  have  bene  wished,  that  the  author  him- 
selfe  had  liv'd  to  have  set  forth,  and  overseen  his  owne 
writings ;  but  since  it  hath  bin  ordain'd  otherwise,  and 
he  by  death  departed  from  that  right,  we  pray  you  do 
not  envy  his  friends,  the  office  of  their  care,  and  paine, 
to  have  collected  &  published  them ;  and  so  to  have  pub- 
lish'd them,  as  where  (before)  you  were  abus'd  with 
diverse  stolne,  and  surreptitious  copies,  maimed,  and 
deformed  by  the  frauds  and  stealthes  of  injurious 
imposters,  that  expos'd  them;  even  those,  are  now 
offer'd  to  your  view  cur'd,  and  perfect  of  their  limbes; 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  191 

and  all  the  rest  absolute  in  their  numbers,  as  he  con- 
ceived them.  Who,  as  he  was  a  happie  imitator  of 
nature,  was  a  most  gentle  expresser  of  it.  His  minde 
and  hand  went  together:  and  what  he  thought,  he 
uttered  with  that  easinesse,  that  we  have  scarce  received 
from  him  a  blot  in  his  papers."  Who  now  does  not  feel 
himself  inclin'd  to  expect  an  accurate  and  good  per- 
formance in  the  edition  of  these  prefacers?  But  alas, 
it  is  nothing  less:  for  (if  we  except  the  six  spurious 
ones,  whose  places  were  then  suppli'd  by  true  and  gen- 
uine copies)  the  editions  of  plays  preceding  the  folio, 
are  the  very  basis  of  those  we  have  there;  which  are 
either  printed  from  those  editions,  or  from  the  copies 
which  they  made  use  of ;  and  this  is  principally  evident 
in — ^First  and  Second  "  Henry  IV.,"  "  Love's  Labour's 
Lost,"  "  Merchant  of  Venice,"  "  Midsummer-Night's 
Dream,"  "Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  "Richard  XL," 
"  Titus  Andronicus,"  and  "  Troilus  and  Cressida  " ;  for 
in  the  others  we  see  somewhat  a  greater  latitude  as  was 
observ'd  a  little  above:  but  in  these  plays,  there  is  an 
almost  strict  conformity  between  the  two  impressions: 
some  additions  are  in  the  second,  and  some  omissions; 
but  the  faults  and  errors  of  the  quartos  are  all  pre- 
serv'd  in  the  folio,  and  others  added  to  them ;  and  what 
difference  there  is,  is  generally  for  the  worse  on  the 
side  of  the  folio  editors ;  which  should  give  us  but  faint 
hopes  of  meeting  with  greater  accuracy  in  the  plays 
which  they  first  publish'd;  and,  accordingly,  we  find 
them  subject  to  all  the  imperfections  that  have  been 
noted  in  the  former:  nor  is  their  edition  in  general  dis- 
tinguish'd  by  any  mark  of  preference  above  the  earliest 
quartos,  but  that  some  of  their  plays  are  divided  into 
acts,  and  some  others  into  acts  and  scenes ;  and  that  with 


192 


FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 


due  precision,  and  agreeable  to  the  author's  idea  of  the 

nature  of  such  divisions.     The  order  of  printing  these 

plays,  the  way  in  which  they  are  class'd,  and  the  titles 

given  them,  being  matters  of  some  curiosity,  the  Table 

that  is  before  the  first  folio  is  here  reprinted :  and  to  it 

are  added  marks,  put  between  crotchets,  shewing  the 

plays  that  are  divided;  a  signifying — acts,  a  &  s — acts 

and  scenes. 

Table  of  Plays  ik  the  Folio. 
Comedies.  The  First  Part  of  King  Henry 

The  Tempest,     (a  &  s.)  the  Sixt. 

The   Two    Gentlemen   of   Ver-      The     Second     part     of 


ona.*     (a  &  s.) 
The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

(a  &  s.) 
Midsommer     Nights     Dreame.* 

(a.) 
The  Merchant  of  Venice.*  (a.) 
As  You  Like  It.      (a  &  s.) 
The  Taming  of  the  Shrew. 
All  Is  Well  That  Ends  WeE, 

(a.) 
Twelfe-Night,    or    What    You 

Will,  (a  &  s.) 
The  Winter's  Tale,  (a  &  s.) 
Measure  for  Measure,  (a  &  s.) 
The  Comedy  of  Errors.*  (a.) 
Much  Adoo  About  Nothing,  (a.) 
Loves  Labour  lost.* 

Histories. 

The  Life  and  Death  of  King 

John.*     (a  &  s.) 
The      Life      and      Death      of 

Richard  the  second.*   (a&s.) 
The      First      part      of      King 

Henry  the  fourth,     (a  &  s.) 
The     Second     part     of     King 

Henry  the  fourth.*     (a&s.) 
The   Life   of  King   Henry  the 

Fift. 


King 
King 


Henry  the  Sixt. 
The      Third      part      of 

Henry  the   Sixt. 
The  Life  &  Death  of  Richard 

the  Third.*     (a  &  s.) 
The  Life  of  King  Henry  the 

Eighth,  (a  &  s.) 

Tragedies. 

Othello,  the  Moore  of  Venice. 

(a  &  s.) 
Antony  and  Cleopater. 
(Troylus   and    Cressida)    from 

the  second   folio;  omitted  in 

the  first. 
The     Tragedy    of    Coriolanus, 

(a.) 
Titus   Andronicus.*     (a.) 
Romeo  and  Juliet.* 
Timon    of    Athens. 
The  Life  and  Death  of  Julius 

Caesar,      (a.) 
The     Tragedy     of      Macbeth. 

(a  &  s.) 
The  Tragedy  of  Hamlet. 
King  Lear,    (a  &  s.) 
Cymbeline    King    of    Britaine. 

(a   &   s.) 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  193 

The  plays,  mark'd  with  asterisks,  are  spoken  of  by  name,  in  a 
book,  call'd— "  Wit's  Treasury,"  being  the  "  Second  Part  of  Wit's 
Commonwealth,"  written  by  Francis  Meres,  who  in  the  same 
paragraph  mentions  another  play  as  being  Shakespeare's  under 
the  title  of  "Love's  Labours  Wonne";  a  title  that  seems  well 
adapted  to  "All's  Well  that  Ends  Well,"  and  under  which  it 
might  first  be  acted.  In  the  paragraph  inmiediately  preceding,  he 
speaks  of  his  "  Venus  and  Adonis,"  his  "  Lucrece,"  and  his  "  Son- 
nets"; this  book  was  printed  in  1598,  by  P.  Short,  for  Cuthbert 
Burbie;  octavo,  small.  The  same  author  mentions,  too,  a  "  Richard 
the  Third,"  written  by  Doctor  Leg,  author  of  another  play,  called 
"The  Destruction  of  Jerusalem."  And  there  is  in  the  Museum 
a  manuscript  Latin  play  upon  the  same  subject,  written  by  one 
Henry  Lacy  in  1586:  which  Latin  play  is  but  a  weak  perform- 
ance; and  yet  seemeth  to  be  the  play  spoken  of  by  Sir  John 
Harrington,  (for  the  author  was  a  Cambridge  man,  and  of  St. 
John's)  in  this  passage  of  his  "Apologie  of  Poetrie,"  prefixed  to  his 
translation  of  Ariosto's  "Orlando,"  edit.  1591,  fol.:  "...  and 
for  tragedies,  to  omit  other  famous  tragedies;  that,  that  was 
played  at  S.  John's  in  Cambridge  of  *  Richard  the  3,' 
would  move  (I  think)  Palaris  the  tyraunt  and  terrific  all 
tyrarious  minded  men,  fro  following  their  foolish  ambitious 
humors,  seeing  how  his  ambition  made  him  kill  his  brother,  his 
nephews,  his  wife,  beside  infinit  others;  and  last  of  all  after  a 
short  and  troublesome  raigne,  to  end  his  miserable  life,  and  to 
have  his  body  harried  after  his  death." — Capell,  in  loco. 

Having  premis'd  thus  much  about  the  state  and  condi- 
tion of  these  first  copies,  it  may  not  be  improper,  nor 
will  it  be  absolutely  a  disgression,  to  add  something 
concerning  their  authenticity:  in  doing  which  it  will 
be  greatly  for  the  reader's  ease, — and  our  own,  to  con- 
fine ourselves  to  the  quartos:  which,  it  is  hop'd,  he 
will  allow  of;  especially  as  our  intended  vindications  of 
them  will  also  include  in  it  (to  the  eye  of  a  good 
observer)  that  of  the  plays  that  appear'd  first  in  the 
folio:  which  therefore  omitting,  we  now  turn  ourselves 
to  the  quartos. 

We  have  seen  the  slur  that  is  endeavour'd  to  be  thrown 
upon  them  indiscriminately  by  the  player-editors,  and 


I 


194.  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

we  see  it  too  wip'd  off  by  their  having  themselves  fol- 
low'd  the  copies  that  they  condemn.  A  modern  editor, 
who  is  not  without  his  followers,  is  pleased  to  assert 
confidently  in  his  preface,  that  they  are  printed  from 
"  piece-meal  parts,  and  copies  of  prompters  " :  but  his 
arguments  for  it  are,  some  of  them,  without  foundation, 
and  the  others  not  conclusive;  and  it  is  to  be  doubted, 
that  the  opinion  is  only  thrown  out  to  countenance  an 
abuse  that  has  been  carry'd  to  much  too  great  lengths 
by  himself  and  another  editor, — that  of  putting  out  of 
the  text  passages  that  they  did  not  like.  These  censures 
then,  and  this  opinion  being  set  aside,  is  it  criminal  to 
try  another  conjecture,  and  see  what  can  be  made  of  it.? 
It  is  known,  that  Shakespeare  liv'd  to  no  great  age, 
being  taken  off  in  his  fifty-third  year ;  and  yet  his  works 
are  so  numerous,  that,  when  we  take  a  survey  of  them, 
they  seem  the  productions  of  a  life  of  twice  that  length : 
for  to  the  thirty-six  plays  in  this  collection,  we  must  add 
seven,  (one  of  which  is  in  two  parts),  perhaps  written 
over  again;  seven  others  that  were  publish'd,  some  of 
them  in  his  life-time,  and  all  with  his  name ;  and  another 
seven,  that  are  upon  good  grounds  imputed  to  him; 
making  in  all,  fifty-eight  plays;  besides  the  part  that 
he  may  reasonably  be  thought  to  have  had  in  other 
men's  labours,  being  himself  a  player  and  a  manager  of 
theatres :  what  his  prose  productions  were,  we  know  not : 
but  it  can  hardly  be  suppos'd,  that  he,  who  had  so  con- 
siderable a  share  in  the  confidence  of  the  Earls  of  Essex 
and  Southampton,  could  be  a  mute  spectator  only  of 
controversies  in  which  they  were  so  much  interested; 
and  his  other  poetical  works,  that  are  known,  will  fill  a 
volume  the  size  of  these  that  we  have  here.  When  the 
number  and  bulk  of  these  pieces,  the  shortness  of  his 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  196 

life,  and  the  other  busy  employments  of  It  are  reflected 
upon  duly,  can  it  be  wondered  that  he  should  be  so  loose 
a  transcriber  of  them?  or  why  should  we  refuse  to  give 
credit  to  what  his  companions  tell  us,  of  the  state  of 
those  transcriptions,  and  of  the  facility  with  which 
they  were  pen'd?  Let  it  then  be  granted,  that  these 
quartos  are  the  poet's  own  copies,  however  they  were 
come  by;  hastily  written  at  first,  and  issuing  from 
presses  most  of  them  as  corrupt  and  licentious  as  can 
any  where  be  produc'd,  and  not  overseen  by  himself,  nor 
by  any  of  his  friends:  and  there  can  be  no  stronger 
reason  for  subscribing  to  any  opinion,  than  may  be 
drawn  in  favour  of  this  from  the  condition  of  all  the 
other  plays  that  were  first  printed  in  the  folio ;  for,  in 
method  of  publication,  they  have  the  greatest  likeness 
possible  to  those  which  preceded  them,  and  carry  all 
the  same  marks  of  haste  and  negligence;  yet  the  gen- 
uineness of  the  latter  is  attested  by  those  who  pub- 
lish'd  them,  and  no  proof  brought  to  invalidate  their 
testimony.  If  it  be  still  asked  what  then  becomes  of 
the    accusation   brought    against   the   quartos   by   the 

i    player-editors,  the  answer  is  not  so  far  off  as  may 

1 1  perhaps  be  expected:  it  may  be  true  that  they  were 
"  stoln  " ;  but  stoln  from  the  author's  copies  by  tran- 
scribers who  found  means  to  get  at  them:  and 
"  maim'd "  they  must  needs  be,  in  respect  of  their 
many  alterations  after  the  first  performance:  and  who 

1 1    knows,  if  the  difference  that  is  between  them,  in  some  of 

'    the  plays  that  are  common  to  them  both,  has  not  been 

studiously  heighten'd  by  the  player-editors, — who  had 

the  means  in  their  power,  being  masters  of  all  the  altera- 

1 1    tions, — to  give  at  once  a  greater  currency  to  their  own 


196  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

against  the  quartos  ?  This,  at  least,  is  a  probable  opin- 
ion, and  no  bad  way  of  accounting  for  those  differences. 
It  were  easy  to  add  abundance  of  other  argument  in 
favour  of  these  quartos ; — Such  as,  their  exact  affinity 
to  almost  all  the  publications  of  this  sort  that  came  out 
about  that  time ;  of  which  it  will  hardly  be  asserted  by 
any  reasoning  man,  that  they  are  all  clandestine  copies, 
and  publish'd  without  their  author's  consent:  next,  the 
high  improbability  of  supposing  that  none  of  these  plays 
were  of  the  poet's  own  setting-out:  whose  case  is 
render'd  singular  by  such  a  supposition;  it  being  cer- 
tain, that  every  other  author  of  the  time,  without  excep- 
tion, who  wrote  any  thing  largely,  publish'd  some  of  his 
plays  himself,  and  Ben  Jonson  all  of  them:  nay,  the 
very  errors  and  faults  of  these  quartos — of  some  of  them 
at  least,  and  those  such  as  are  brought  against  them 
by  other  arguers, — are  with  the  editor,  proofs  of  their 
genuineness ;  for  from  what  hand,  but  that  of  the  author 
himself,  could  come  those  seemingly  strange  repetitions 
which  are  spoken  of,^  those  imperfect  exits,  and 
entries  of  persons  who  have  no  concern  in  the  play 
at  all,  neither  in  the  scene  where  they  are  made  to  enter, 
nor  ii}  any  other  part  of  it  ?  yet  such  there  are  in  several 
of  these  quartos;  and  such  might  well  be  expected  in 
the  hasty  draughts  of  so  negligent  an  author,  who 
neither  saw  at  once  all  he  might  want,  nor.  In  some 
instances,  have  himself  sufficient  time  to  consider  the 
fitness  of  what  he  was  then  penning.  These  and  other 
like  arguments  might,  as  is  said  before,  be  collected,  and 
urg'd  for  the  plays  that  were  first  publish'd  in  the 
quartos;  that  is,  for  fourteen  of  them,  for  the  other 
six  are  out  of  the  question :  but  what  has  been  enlarg'd 

^Vide  pp.  43-4.4. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  197 

upon  above,  of  their  being  foUow'd  by  the  folio,  and 
their  apparent  general  likeness  to  all  the  other  plays  that 
are  in  that  collection,  is  so  very  forcible  as  to  be  suffi- 
cient of  itself  to  satisfy  the  unprejudic'd,  that  the  plays 
of  both  impressions  spring  all  from  the  same  stock,  and 
owe  their  numerous  imperfections  to  one  common  origin 
and  cause, — ^the  too  great  negligence  and  haste  of  their 
over-careless  producer. 

But  to  return  to  the  things  immediately  treated, — 
the  state  of  the  old  editions.  The  quartos  went  through 
many  impressions,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  Table:  and, 
in  each  play,  the  last  is  generally  taken  from  the 
impression  next  before  it,  and  so  onward  to  the  first; 
the  few  that  come  not  within  this  rule,  are  taken  notice 
of  in  the  Table:  and  this  further  is  to  be  observed  of 
them:  that,  generally  speaking,  the  more  distant  they 
are  from  the  original,  the  more  they  abound  in  faults ; 
'till  in  the  end,  the  corruptions  of  the  last  copies  become 
so  excessive,  as  to  make  them  of  hardly  any  worth.  The 
folio  too,  had  its  re-impressions,  the  dates  and  notices 
of  which  are  likewise  in  the  Table,  and  they  tread  the 
same  round  as  did  the  quartos:  only  that  the  third  of 
them  has  seven  plays  more  (see  their  titles  below ),^ 
in  which  it  is  followed  by  the  last;  and  that  again  by 
the  first  of  the  modern  impressions,  which  come  now  to 
be  spoken  of. 

If  the  stage  be  a  mirror  of  the  times,  as  undoubtedly 
It  is,  and  we  judge  of  the  age's  temper  by  what  we  see 

►revailing  there,  what  must  we  think  of  the  times  that 

""Locrine;"  "The  London  Prodigal;"  "Pericles,  Prince  of 
^re;"     "The  Puritan,  or,  the  Widow  of  WatUng  Street;"  "Sir 

Fohn  Oldcastle;"  "Thomas  Lord  Cromwell;"  and  "The  York- 
lire  Tragedy." 


198  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

succeeded  Shakespeare?  Jonson,  favour'd  by  a  court 
that  delighted  only  in  masques,  had  been  gaining  ground 
upon  him  even  in  his  life-time ;  and  his  death  put  him  in 
full  possession  of  a  post  he  had  long  aspir'd  to,  the 
empire  of  the  drama :  the  props  of  this  new  king's  throne, 
were — ^Fletcher,  Shirley,  Middleton,  Massinger, 
Broome,  and  others ;  and  how  unequal  they  all  were,  the 
monarch  and  his  subjects  too,  to  the  poet  they  came 
after,  let  their  works  testify :  yet  they  had  the  vogue  on 
their  side,  during  all  those  blessed  times  that  preceded 
the  civil  war,  and  Shakespeare  was  held  in  disesteem. 
The  war,  and  the  medley  government  that  foUow'd, 
swept  all  these  things  away :  but  they  were  restor'd  with 
the  king;  and  another  stage  took  place,  in  which 
Shakespeare  had  little  share.  Dryden  had  then  the  lead, 
and  maintain'd  it  for  half  a  century :  though  his  govern- 
ment was  sometimes  disputed  by  Lee,  Tate,  Shadwell, 
Wytcherly,  and  others ;  weakened  much  by  "  The 
Rehearsal  " ;  and  quite  overthrown  in  the  end  by  Otway, 
and  Rowe:  what  the  cast  of  their  plays  was,  is  known 
to  every  one:  but  that  Shakespeare,  the  true  and  gen- 
uine Shakespeare,  was  not  much  relish'd,  is  plain  from 
the  many  alterations  of  him,  that  were  brought  upon 

.      the  stage  by  some  of  those  gentlemen,  and  by  others 

I      within  that  period. 

But,  from  what  has  been  said,  we  are  not  to  conclude — 
that  the  poet  had  no  admirers :  for  the  contrary  is  true ; 
and  he  had  in  all  this  interval  no  inconsiderable  party 
amongst  men  of  the  greatest  understanding  who  both 
saw  his  merit,  in  despite  of  the  darkness  it  was  then 
wrapt  up  in,  and  spoke  loudly  in  praise ;  but  the  stream 
f  of  the  publick  favour  ran  the  other  way.  But  this,  too, 
coming  about  at  the  time  we  are  speaking  of,  there  was 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  199 

a  demand  for  his  works,  and  in  a  form  that  was  more 
convenient  than  the  fohos;  in  consequence  of  which, 
the  gentleman  last  mentioned  was  set  to  work  by  the 
booksellers ;  and,  in  1709,  he  put  out  an  edition  in  six  ^ 
volumes  octavo,  which,  unhappily,  is  the  basis  of  all 
the  other  moderns :  for  this  editor  went  no  further  than 
to  the  edition  nearest  to  him  in  time,  which  was  the 
folio  of  1685,  the  last  and  worst  of  those  impressions: 
this  he  republished  with  great  exactness;  correcting 
here  and  there  some  of  its  grossest  mistakes,  and  divid- 
ing into  acts  and  scenes  the  plays  that  were  not  divided 
before. 

But  no  sooner  was  this  edition  in  the  hands  of  the 
publick,  than  they  saw  in  part  its  deficiencies,  and  one 
of  another  sort  began  to  be  required  of  them;  which 
accordingly  was  set  about  some  years  after  by  two 
gentlemen  at  once,  Mr.  Pope  and  Mr.  Theobald.  The 
labours  of  the  first  came  out  ii>  1725,  in  six  volumes 
quarto:  and  he  has  the  merit  of  having  first  improved 
his  author,  by  the  insertion  of  many  large  passages, 
speeches,  and  single  lines,  taken  from  the  quartos ;  and 
of  amending  him  in  other  places,  by  readings  fetch'd 
from  the  same:  but  his  materials  were  few,  and  his 
collation  of  them  not  the  most  careful;  which,  join'd 
to  other  faults,  and  to  that  main  one — of  making  his 
predecessor's  the  copy  himself  follow'd,  brought  his 
labours  in  disrepute,  and  has  finally  sunk  them  in 
neglect. 

His  publication  retarded  the  other  gentleman,  and  he 
did  not  appear  'till  the  year  1733,  when  his  work,  too, 
came  out  in  seven  volumes  octavo.  The  opposition 
that  was   between   them  seems   to  have  enflam'd  him, 

"Seven. 


I 


200  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

which  was  heighten'd  by  other  motives,  and  he  declaims 
vehemently  against  the  work  of  his  antagonist:  which 
yet  serv'd  him  for  a  model;  and  his  own  is  made  only 
a  little  better,  by  his  having  a  few  more  materials ;  of 
which  he  was  not  a  better  collator  than  the  other,  nor 
did  he  excel  him  in  use  of  them ;  for,  in  this  article,  both 
their  judgments  may  be  equally  call'd  in  question;  in 
what  he  has  done  that  is  conjectural,  he  is  rather  more 
happy ;  but  in  this  he  had  large  assistances. 

But  the  gentleman  that  came  next,  is  a  critick  of 
another  stamp;  and  pursues  a  trick,  in  which  it  is 
greatly  to  be  hop'd  he  will  never  be  f  oUow'd  in  the  pub- 
lication of  any  authors  whatsoever:  for  this  were,  in 
effect,  to  annihilate  them,  if  carry'd  a  little  further; 
by  destroying  all  marks  of  peculiarity  and  notes  of 
time,  all  easiness  of  expression  and  numbers,  all  just- 
ness of  thought,  and  the  nobility  of  not  a  few  of  their 
conceptions :  The  manner  in  which  his  author  is  treated, 
excites  an  indignation  that  will  be  thought  by  some  to 
vent  itself  too  strongly;  but  terms  weaker  would  do  in- 
justice to  my  feelings,  and  the  censure  shall  be  hazarded. 
Mr.  Pope's  edition  was  the  ground-work  of  this  over- 
bold one;  splendidly  printed  at  Oxford  in  six  quarto 
volumes,  and  publish'd  in  the  year  1744:  the  publisher 
disdains  all  collation  of  folio,  or  quarto;  and  fetches 
all  from  his  great  self,  and  the  moderns  his  predecessors : 
wantoning  in  very  license  of  conjecture;  and  sweeping 
all  before  him  (without  notice,  or  reason  given),  that 
not  suits  his  tastes,  or  lies  level  to  his  conceptions.  But 
this  justice  should  be  done  him: — as  his  conjectures  are 
numerous,  they  are  oftentimes  not  unhappy;  and  some 
of  them  are  of  that  excellence,  that  one  is  struck  with 
amazement  to  see  a  person  of  so  much  judgment  as  he 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  201 

shows  himself  in  them,  adopt  a  method  of  publishing 
that  runs  counter  to  all  the  ideas  that  wise  men  have 
hitherto  entertain'd  of  an  editor's  province  and  duty. 

The  year  1747  produc'd  a  fifth  edition  in  eight  octavo 
volumes  published  by  Mr.  Warburton ;  which,  though  it 
is  said  in  the  title  page  to  be  the  joint  work  of  himself 
and  the  second  editor,  the  third  ought  rather  to  have 
been  mention'd,  for  it  is  printed  from  his  text.  The 
merits  of  this  performance  have  been  so  thoroughly 
discuss'd  in  two  very  ingenious  books,  "  The  Canons  of 
Criticism,"  and  "Revisal  of  Shakespeare's  Text,"  that 
it  is  needless  to  say  any  more  of  it:  this  only  shall  be 
added  to  what  may  be  there  met  with, — -that  the  edition 
is  not  much  benefited  by  fresh  acquisitions  from  the  old 
ones,  which  this  gentleman  seems  to  have  neglected. 

Other  charges  there  are,  that  might  be  brought  against 
these  modern  impressions,  without  infringing  the  laws 
of  truth  or  candour  either ;  but  what  is  said,  will  be  suffi- 
cient; and  may  satisfy  their  greatest  favourers, — that 
the  superstructure  cannot  be  a  sound  one,  which  is  built 
upon  so  bad  a  foundation  as  that  work  of  Mr.  Rowe's ; 
which  all  of  them,  as  we  see,  in  succession,  have  yet 
made  their  corner-stone:  The  truth  is  it  was  impossible 
that  such  a  beginning  should  end  better  than  it  has  done : 
the  fault  was  in  the  setting-out;  and  all  the  diligence 
that  could  be  used,  join'd  to  the  discernment  of  a 
Pearce,  or  a  Bentley,  could  never  purge  their  author 
of  all  his  defects  by  their  method  of  proceeding. 

The  editor  now  before  you  was  apriz'd  in  time  of  this 
truth ;  saw  the  wretched  condition  his  author  was  reduc'd 
to  by  these  late  tamperings,  and  thought  seriously  of 
^a  cure  for  it,  and  that  so  long  ago  as  the  year  1745; 

for  the  attempt  was  first  suggested  by  that  gentleman's 


20^  FAMOUS   INTRODUCTIONS 

performance,  which  came  out  at  Oxford  the  year  before : 
which  when  he  had  perus'd  with  no  Httle  astonishment, 
and  consider'd  the  fatal  consequences  that  must  inevit- 
ably follow  the  imitation  of  so  much  license,  he  resolv'd 
himself  to  be  champion;  and  to  exert  to  the  uttermost 
such  abilities  as  he  was  master  of,  to  save  from  further 
ruin  an  edifice  of  this  dignity,  which  England  must 
forever  glory  in.  Hereupon  he  possess'd  himself  of  the 
other  modern  editions,  the  folios,  and  as  many  quartos 
as  could  be  presently  be  procur'd;  and,  within  a  few 
years,  after,  fortune  and  industry  help'd  him  to  all  the 
rest,  six  only  excepted;  adding  to  them  withal  twelve 
more,  which  the  compilers  of  former  tables  had  no 
knowledge  of.  Thus  fumish'd,  he  fell  immediately  to 
collation, — ^which  is  the  first  step  in  works  of  this 
nature;  and,  without  it,  nothing  is  done  to  purpose, — 
first  of  modems  with  moderns,  then  of  modems  with 
ancients,  and  afterwards  of  ancients  with  others  more 
ancient :  'tiU,  at  the  last,  a  ray  of  light  broke  forth  upon 
him,  by  which  he  hop'd  to  find  his  way  through  the 
wilderness  of  these  editions  into  that  fair  country,  the 
poet's  real  habitation.  He  had  not  proceeded  far  in  his 
collation,  before  he  saw  cause  to  come  to  this  resolu- 
tion;— to  stick  invariably  to  the  old  editions  (that  is, 
the  best  of  them),  which  hold  now  the  place  of  manu- 
scripts, no  scrap  of  the  author's  writing  having  the 
luck  to  come  down  to  us ;  and  never  to  depart  from  them, 
but  in  cases  where  reason,  and  the  uniform  practice  of 
men  of  the  greatest  note  in  this  art,  tell  him — ^they  may 
be  quitted ;  nor  yet  in  those,  without  notice.  But  it  will 
be  necessary,  that  the  general  method  of  this  edition 
should  now  be  lay'd  open ;  that  the  publick  may  be  put 
in  a  capacity  not  only  of  comparing  it  with  those  they 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  203 

already  have,  but  of  judging  whether  anything  remains 
to  be  done  towards  the  fixing  this  author's  text  in  the 
manner  himself  gave  it. 

It  is  said  a  little  before, — ^that  we  have  nothing  of  his 
in  writing;  that  the  printed  copies  are  all  that  is  left 
to  guide  us ;  and  that  those  copies  are  subj  ect  to  num- 
berless imperfections,  but  not  all  in  like  degree:  our 
first  business  then,  was — to  examine  their  merit,  and 
see  on  which  side  the  scale  of  goodness  preponderated; 
which  we  have  generally  found  to  be  on  that  of  the 
most  ancient:  it  may  be  seen  in  the  Table,  what  editions 
are  judg'd  to  have  the  preference  among  those  plays 
that  were  printed  singly  in  quarto ;  and  for  those  plays, 
the  text  of  those  editions  is  chiefly  adher'd  to:  in  all 
the  rest,  the  first  folio  is  f ollow'd ;  the  text  of  which  is 
by  far  the  most  faultless  of  the  editions  in  that  form ; 
and  has  also  the  advantage  in  three  quarto  plays,  in 
"  2  Henry  IV.,"  "  Othello,"  and  "  Richard  III."  Had 
the  editions  thus  follow'd  been  printed  with  carefulness, 
from  correct  copies,  and  copies  not  added  to  or  otherwise 
alter'd  after  those  impressions,  there  had  been  no  occa- 
sion for  going  any  further :  but  this  was  not  at  all  the 
case,  even  in  the  best  of  them ;  and  it  therefore  became 
proper  and  necessary  to  look  into  the  other  old  editions, 
and  to  select  from  thence  whatever  improves  the  author, 
or  contributes  to  his  advancement  in  perfectness,  the 
point  in  view  throughout  all  this  performance :  that  they 
do  improve  him,  was  with  the  editor  an  argument  in 
their  favour;  and  a  presumption  of  genuineness  for 
what  is  thus  selected,  whether  additions,  or  differences 
of  any  other  nature ;  and  the  causes  of  their  appearing 
in  some  copies,  and  being  wanting  in  others,  cannot  now 
be  discover'd,  by  reason  of  the  time's  distance,  and 


I 


204  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

diefect  o£  fit  materials  for  making  the  discovery.  Did 
the  limits  of  his  Introduction  allow  of  it,  the  editor 
would  gladly  have  dilated  and  treated  more  at  large  this 
article  of  his  plan;  as  that  which  is  of  greatest  im- 
portance, and  most  likely  to  be  contested  of  any  thing 
in  it:  but  this  doubt,  or  this  dissent  (if  any  be),  must 
come  from  those  persons  only  who  are  not  yet  possess'd 
of  the  idea  they  ought  to  entertain  of  these  ancient 
impressions;  for  of  those  who  are,  he  fully  persuades 
himself  he  shall  have  both  the  approof  and  the  applause. 
But  without  entering  further  in  this  place  into  the 
reasonableness,  or  even  necessity,  of  so  doing,  he  does 
for  the  present  acknowledge — that  he  has  everywhere 
made  use  of  such  materials  as  he  met  with  in  other  old 
copies,  which  he  thought  improv'd  the  editions  that  are 
made  the  ground-work  of  the  present  text :  and  whether 
tTiey  do  so  or  no,  the  judicious  part  of  the  world  may 
certainly  know,  by  turning  to  a  collection  that  will  be 
publish'd;  where  all  discarded  readings  are  enter'd,  all 
additions  noted,  and  variations  of  every  kind;  and  the 
editions  specify'd,  to  which  they  severally  belong. 

But,  when  these  helps  were  administered,  there  was  yet 
behind  a  very  great  number  of  passages,  labouring 
under  various  defects  and  those  of  various  degree,  that 
had  their  cure  to  seek  from  some  other  sources,  that  of 
copies  affording  it  no  more.  For  these  he  had  recourse 
in  the  first  place  to  the  assistance  of  modern  copies :  and, 
where  that  was  incompetent,  or  else  absolutely  deficient, 
which  was  very  often  the  case,  there  he  sought  the 
remedy  in  himself,  using  judgment  and  conjecture; 
which,  he  is  bold  to  say,  he  will  not  be  found  to  have 
exercis'd  wantonly,  but  to  follow  the  establlsh'd  rules 
of    critique    with    soberness    and    temperance.      These 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  «05 

emendations  (whether  of  his  own,  or  other  gentlemen), 
carrying  in  themselves  a  face  of  certainty,  and  coming 
in  aid  of  places  that  were  apparently  corrupt,  are 
admitted  into  the  text,  and  the  rejected  reading  is 
always  put  below ;  some  others, — that  are  neither  of  that 
certainty,  nor  are  of  that  necessity,  but  are  specious 
and  plausible,  and  may  be  thought  by  some  to  mend 
the  passage  they  belong  to, — ^will  have  a  place  in  the 
collection  that  is  spoken  of  above.  But  where  it  is  said, 
that  the  rejected  reading  is  always  put  below,  this 
must  be  taken  with  some  restriction:  for  some  of  the 
emendations,  and  of  course  the  ancient  readings  upon 
which  they  are  grounded,  being  of  a  complicated  nature, 
the  general  method  was  there  inconvenient;  and,  for 
these  few,  you  are  referr'd  to  a  note  which  will  be  found 
among  the  rest:  and  another  sort  there  are,  that  are 
simply  insertions;  these  are  effectually  pointed  out  by 
being  printed  in  the  gothick  or  black  character. 

Hitherto,  the  defects  and  errors  of  these  old  editions 
have  been  of  such  a  nature,  that  we  could  lay  them  before 
the  reader,  and  submit  to  his  judgment  the  remedies 
that  are  apply'd  to  them;  which  is  accordingly  done, 
cither  in  the  page  itself  where  they  occur,  or  in  some 
note  that  is  to  follow:  but  there  are  some  behind  that 
would  not  be  so  manag'd  either  by  reason  of  their  fre- 
quency, or  difficulty  of  subjecting  them  to  the  rules 
under  which  the  others  are  brought;  they  have  been 
spoken  of  before  (at  p.  189),  where  the  corruptions  are 
all  enumerated,  and  are  as  follows: — a  want  of  proper 
exits  and  entrances,  and  of  many  scenical  directions, 
throughout  the  work  in  general,  and,  in  some  of  the 
plays,  a  want  of  division;  and  the  errors  are  those  of 
measure,  and  punctuation:  all  these  are  mended,  and 


206  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

supply'd,  without  notice  and  silently;  but  the  reason 
for  so  doing,  and  the  method  observed  in  doing  it,  shall 
be  a  little  enlarg'd  upon,  that  the  fidelity  of  the  editor, 
and  that  which  is  chiefly  to  distinguish  him  from  those 
who  have  gone  before,  may  stand  sacred  and  unim- 
peachable ;  and,  first,  of  the  division. 

The  thing  chiefly  intended  in  reprinting  the  list  of 
titles  that  may  be  seen  (at  p.  192),  to  show  which  plays 
were  divided  into  acts,  which  into  acts  and  scenes,  and 
which  of  them  were  not  divided  at  all;  and  the  number 
of  the  first  class  is — eight;  of  the  third — eleven:  for 
though  in  "  Henry  V., "  "  1  Henry  VI.,"  "  Love's 
Labour's  Lost,"  and  "The  Taming  of  the  Shrew," 
there  is  some  division  aim'd  at;  yet  it  is  so  lame  and 
erroneous  that  it  was  thought  best  to  consider  them  as 
totally  undivided,  and  to  rank  them  accordingly:  now 
when  these  plays  were  to  be  divided,  as  well  those  of  the 
first  class  as  those  of  the  third,  the  plays  of  the  second 
class  were  studiously  attended  to;  and  a  rule  was  pick'd 
out  from  them,  by  which  to  regulate  this  division :  which 
rule  might  easily  have  been  discover'd  before,  had  but 
any  the  least  pains  have  been  bestow'd  upon  it;  and 
certainly  it  was  very  well  worth  it,  since  neither  can 
the  representation  be  manag'd,  nor  the  order  and  thread 
of  the  fable  be  properly  conceiv'd  by  the  reader,  'till 
this  article  is  adjusted.  The  plays  that  are  come  down 
to  us  divided,  must  be  look'd  upon  as  of  the  author's 
own  settling;  and  in  them,  with  regard  to  acts,  we  find 
him  following  establish'd  precepts,  or,  rather,  conform- 
ing himself  to  the  practice  of  some  other  dramatick 
writers  of  his  time;  for  they,  it  is  likely,  and  nature, 
were  the  books  he  was  best  acquainted  with:  his  scene 
divisions  he  certainly  did  not  fetch  from  writers  upon 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    TLAYS  207 

the  drama ;  for,  in  them,  he  observed  a  method  in  which 
perhaps  he  is  singular,  and  he  is  invariable  in  the  use 
of  it;  with  him,  a  change  of  scene  implies  generally  a 
change  of  place,  though  not  always;  but  always  an 
entire  evacuation  of  it,  and  a  succession  of  new  persons : 
that  liaison  of  the  scenes,  which  Jonson  seems  to  have 
attempted  and  upon  which  the  French  stage  prides 
itself,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  had  any  idea  of;  of 
the  other  unities  he  was  perfectly  well  appriz'd;  and 
has  follow'd  them,  in  one  of  his  plays,  with  as  great 
strictness  and  greater  happiness  than  can  perhaps  be 
met  with  in  any  other  writer :  the  play  meant  is  "  The 
Comedy  of  Errors  " ;  in  which  the  action  is  one,  the 
place  one,  and  the  time  such  as  even  Aristotle  himself 
would  allow  of — the  revolution  of  half  a  day :  but  even 
in  this  play,  the  change  of  scene  arises  from  change 
of  persons,  and  by  that  it  is  regulated;  as  are  also  all 
the  other  plays  that  are  not  divided  in  the  folio:  for 
whoever  will  take  the  trouble  to  examine  those  that  are 
divided  (and  they  are  pointed  out  for  him  in  the  list), 
will  see  them  conform  exactly  to  the  rule  above  men- 
tioned ;  and  can  then  have  but  little  doubt,  that  it  should 
be  apply'd  to  all  the  rest.  To  have  distinguish'd  these 
divisions, — made  (indeed),  without  the  authority,  but 
following  the  example  of  the  folio, — had  been  useless 
and  troublesome ;  and  the  editor  fully  persuades  himself 
that  what  he  has  said  will  be  sufficient,  and  that  he  shall 
be  excus'd  by  the  ingenious  and  candid  for  overpassing 
them  without  further  notice:  whose  pardon  he  hopes 
also  to  have  for  some  other  unnotic'd  matters  that  are 
related  to  this  in  hand,  such  as — marking  the  place  of 
action,  both  general  and  particular ;  supplying  scenical 
directions ;  and  due  regulating  of  exits,  and  entrances : 


208  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

for  the  first,  there  is  no  title  in  the  old  editions ;  and  in 
both  the  latter,  they  are  so  deficient  and  faulty  through- 
out, that  it  would  not  be  much  amiss  if  we  look'd  upon 
them  as  wanting  too ;  and  then  all  these  several  articles 
might  be  consider'd  as  additions,  that  needed  no  other 
pointing  out  than  a  declaration  that  they  are  so:  the 
light  that  they  throw  upon  the  plays  in  general,  and  par- 
ticularly upon  some  parts  of  them, — such  as,  the  battle 
scenes  throughout ;  Ccesar^s  passage  to  the  senate-house, 
and  subsequent  assassination;  Antonyms  death,  the  sur- 
prizal  and  death  of  Cleopatra;  that  of  Titus  Andronir 
cus;  and  a  multitude  of  others,  which  are  all  directed 
new  in  this  edition, — ^will  justify  these  insertions;  and 
may,  possibly,  merit  the  reader's  thanks,  for  the  great 
aids  which  they  aff^ord  to  his  conception. 

It  remains  now  to  speak  of  errors  of  the  old  copies 
which  are  here  amended  without  notice,  to  wit — ^the 
pointing,  and  wrong  division  of  much  of  them  respect- 
ing the  numbers.  And  as  to  the  first,  it  is  so  extremely 
erroneous,  throughout  all  the  plays,  and  in  every  old 
copy,  that  small  regard  is  due  to  it ;  and  it  becomes  an 
editor's  duty  (instead  of  being  influenc'd  by  such  a 
punctuation,  or  even  casting  his  eyes  upon  it),  to  attend 
closely  to  the  meaning  of  what  is  before  him,  and  to 
new-point  it  accordingly:  was  it  the  business  of  this 
edition — to  make  parade  of  discoveries,  this  article 
alone  would  have  aff^orded  ample  field  for  it,  for  a  very 
great  number  of  passages  are  now  first  set  to  rights  by 
this  only,  which,  before,  had  either  no  sense  at  all,  or  one 
unsuiting  the  context,  and  unworthy  the  noble  penner 
of  it;  but  all  the  emendations  of  this  sort,  though  in- 
ferior in  merit  to  no  others  whatsoever,  are  consign'd 
to  silence;  some  few  only  excepted,  of  passages  that 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  209 

have  been  much  contested,  and  whose  present  adjustment 
might  possibly  be  call'd  in  question  again ;  these  will  be 
spoken  of  in  some  note,  and  a  reason  given  for  embrac- 
ing them;  all  the  other  parts  of  the  works  have  been 
examin'd  with  equal  diligence,  and  equal  attention ;  and 
the  editor  flatters  himself,  that  the  punctuation  he  has 
follow'd  (into  which  he  has  admitted  some  novelties), 
will  be  found  of  so  much  benefit  to  his  author,  that  those 
who  run  may  read,  and  that  with  profit  and  understand- 
ing. The  other  great  mistake  in  these  old  editions,  and 
which  is  very  insufficiently  rectify'd  in  any  of  the  new 
ones,  relates  to  the  poet's  numbers ;  his  verse  being  often 
wrong  divided,  or  printed  wholly  as  prose,  and  his  prose 
as  often  printed  like  verse :  this,  though  not  so  universal 
as  their  wrong  pointing,  is  yet  so  extensive  an  error 
in  the  old  copies,  and  so  impossible  to  be  pointed  out 
otherwise  than  by  a  note,  that  an  editor's  silent  amend- 
ment of  it  is  surely  pardonable  at  least ;  for  who  would 
not  be  disgusted  with  that  perpetual  sameness  which 
must  necessarily  have  been  in  all  the  notes  of  this  sort  ? 
Neither  are  they,  in  truth,  emendations  that  require 
proving;  every  good  ear  does  immediately  adopt  them, 
and  every  lover  of  the  poet  will  be  pleas'd  with  that 
accession  of  beauty  which  results  to  him  from  them:  it 
is  perhaps  to  be  lamented,  that  there  is  yet  standing  in 
his  works  much  unpleasing  mixture  of  prosaick  and 
material  dialogue,  and  sometimes  in  places  seemingly 
improper,  as — in  "Othello,"  and  some  others  which  men 
of  judgment  will  be  able  to  pick  out  for  themselves :  but 
these  blemishes  are  not  now  to  be  wip'd  away,  at  least 
not  by  an  editor,  whose  province  it  far  exceeds  to  make 
1  a  change  of  this  nature ;  but  must  remain  as  marks  of 
y^ie  poet's  negligence,  and  of  the  haste  with  which  liis 

I 


210  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

pieces  were  compos'd:  what  he  manifestly  intended 
prose  (and  we  can  judge  of  his  intentions  only  from 
what  appears  in  the  editions  that  are  come  down  to  us), 
should  be  printed  as  prose,  what  verse  as  verse;  which, 
it  is  hop'd,  is  now  done,  with  an  accuracy  that  leaves 
no  great  room  for  any  further  considerable  improve- 
ment in  this  way. 

Thus  have  we  run  through,  in  as  brief  a  manner  as 
possible,  all  the  several  heads,  of  which  it  was  thought 
proper  and  even  necessary  that  the  publick  should  be 
appriz'd;  as  well  those  that  concern  preceding  editions, 
both  old  and  new;  as  the  other  which  we  have  just 
quitted, — the  method  observ'd  in  the  edition  that  is 
now  before  them:  which  though  not  so  entertaining,  it 
is  confess'd,  nor  affording  so  much  room  to  display  the 
parts  and  talents  of  a  writer,  as  some  other  topicks  that 
have  generally  supply'd  the  place  of  them;  such  as — 
criticisms  or  panegyricks  upon  the  author,  historical 
anecdotes,  essays,  and  florilegia;  yet  there  will  be  found 
some  odd  people,  who  may  be  apt  to  pronounce  of  them 
— ^that  they  are  suitable  to  the  place  they  stand  in,  and 
convey  all  the  instruction  that  should  be  look'd  for  in 
a  preface.  Here,  therefore,  we  might  take  our  leave 
of  the  reader,  bidding  him  welcome  to  the  banquet  that 
is  set  before  him ;  were  it  not  apprehended,  and  reason- 
ably, that  he  will  expect  some  account  why  it  is  not 
serv'd  up  to  him  at  present  with  its  accustom'd  and 
laudable  garniture,  of  "  Notes,  Glossaries,"  etc.  Now 
though  it  might  be  reply'd,  as  a  reason  for  what  is 
done, — that  a  very  great  part  of  the  world,  amongst 
whom  is  the  editor  himself,  profess  much  dislike  to  this 
paginary  intermixture  of  text  and  comment;  in  works 
merely  of  entertainment,  and  written  in  the  language 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  211 

of  the  country;  as  also — that  he,  the  editor,  does  not 
possess  the  secret  of  dealing  out  notes  by  measure,  and 
distributing  them  amongst  his  volumes  so  nicely  that 
the  equality  of  their  bulk  shall  not  be  broke  in  upon 
the  thickness  of  a  sheet  of  paper;  yet,  having  other 
matter  at  hand  which  he  thinks  may  excuse  him  better, 
he  will  not  have  recourse  to  these  above  mention'd! 
which  matter  is  no  other,  than  his  very  strong  desire  of 
approving  himself  to  the  publick  a  man  of  integrity; 
and  of  making  his  future  present  more  perfect,  and  as 
worthy  of  their  acceptance  as  his  abilities  will  let  him. 
For  the  explaining  of  what  is  said,  which  is  a  little 
wrap'd  up  in  mystery  at  present,  we  must  inform  that 
publick — ^that  another  work,  is  prepar'd,  and  in  great 
forwardness,  having  been  wrought  upon  many  years; 
nearly  indeed  as  long  as  the  work  which  is  now  before 
them,  for  they  have  gone  hand  in  hand  almost  from  the 
first ;  this  work,  to  which  we  have  given  for  title  "  The 
School  of  Shakespeare,^  consists  wholly  of  extracts, 
(with  observations  upon  some  of  them,  inter spers'd 
occasionally,)  from  books  that  may  properly  be  called 
— his  school ;  as  they  are  indeed  the  sources  from  which 
he  drew  the  greater  part  of  his  knowledge  in  mythology 
and  classical  matters,  his  fable,  his  history,  and  even 
the  seeming  peculiarities  of  his  language:  to  furnish 
out  of  these  materials,  all  the  plays  have  been  perus'd, 
within  a  very  small  number,  that  were  in  print  in  his 
time  or  some  short  time  after;  the  chroniclers  his  con- 
temporaries, or  that  a  little  preceded  him ;  many  origi- 
nal poets  of  that  age,  and  many  translators ;  with  essay- 
ists, novelists,  and  story-mongers  in  great  abundance: 

Published    in    three    volumes,    1783,   two   years    after    Capell's 
tth. 


212  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

every  book,  in  short,  has  been  consulted  that  it  was 
possible  to  procure,  with  which  it  could  be  thought  he 
was  acquainted,  or  that  seem'd  likely  to  contribute  any- 
thing towards  his  illustrations.  To  what  degree  they 
illustrate  him,  and  in  how  new  a  light  they  set  the 
character  of  this  great  poet  himself  can  never  be  con- 
ceived as  it  should  be,  'till  these  extracts  came  forth 
to  the  publick  view,  in  their  just  magnitude,  and  prop-| 
erly  digested:  for  besides  the  various  passages  that  he 
has  either  made  use  of  or  alluded  to,  many  other  mat- 
ters have  been  selected  and  will  be  found  in  this  work, 
tending  all  to  the  same  end, — our  better  knowledge  of 
him  and  his  writings;  and  one  class  of  them  there  is, 
for  which  we  shall  perhaps  be  censur'd  as  being  too 
profuse  in  them,  namely — the  almost  innumerable  ex- 
amples, drawn  from  those  ancient  writers,  of  words 
and  modes  of  expression  which  many  have  thought 
peculiar  to  Shakespeare,  and  have  been  too  apt  to  im- 
pute to  him  as  a  blemish:  but  the  quotations  of  this 
class  do  effectually  purge  him  from  such  a  charge, 
which  is  one  reason  of  their  profusion ;  though  another 
main  inducement  to  it  has  been,  a  desire  of  shewing 
the  true  force  and  meaning  of  the  aforesaid  unusual 
words  and  expressions;  which  can  no  way  be  better 
ascertain'd,  than  by  a  proper  variety  of  well-chosen 
examples.  Now, — to  bring  this  matter  home  to  the 
subject  for  which  it  has  been  alledg'd,  and  upon  whose 
account  this  affair  is  now  lay'd  before  the  publick 
somewhat  before  its  time, — ^who  is  so  short-sighted 
as  not  to  perceive,  upon  first  reflection,  that,  without 
manifest  injustice,  the  notes  upon  this  author  could 
not  precede  the  publication  of  the  work  we  have  been 
describing;  whose  choicest  materials  would  unavoidably 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  213 

and  certainly  have  found  a  place  in  those  notes,  and  so 
been  twice  retailed  upon  the  world;  a  practice  which 
the  editor  has  often  condemn'd  in  others,  and  could 
therefore  not  resolve  to  be  guilty  of  in  himself?  By 
postponing  these  notes  a  while,  things  will  be  as  they 
ought:  they  will  then  be  confin'd  to  that  which  is  their 
proper  subject,  explanation  alone,  intermix'd  with  some 
little  criticism;  and  instead  of  long  quotations,  which 
would  otherwise  have  appear'd  in  them,  "  The  School  of 
Shakespeare  "  will  be  ref err'd  to  occasionally ;  and  one 
of  the  many  indexes  with  which  this  same  "  School "  will 
be  provided,  will  afford  an  ampler  and  truer  Glossary 
than  can  be  made  out  of  any  other  matter.  In  the  mean 
while,  and  'till  such  time  as  the  whole  can  be  got  ready, 
and  their  way  clear'd  for  them  by  publication  of  the 
book  above  mention'd,  the  reader  will  please  to  take  in 
good  part  some  few  of  these  notes  with  which  he  will  be 
presented  by  and  by:  they  were  written  at  least  four 
years  ago,  with  intention  of  placing  them  at  the  head 
of  the  several  notes  that  are  design'd  for  each  play; 
but  are  now  detach'd  from  their  fellows,  and  made  par- 
cel of  the  Introduction,  in  compliance  with  some  friends' 
opinion;  who  having  given  them  a  perusal,  will  needs 
have  it,  that  'tis  expedient  the  world  should  be  made 
acquainted  forthwith — in  what  sort  of  reading  the  poor 
poet  himself,  and  his  editor  after  him,  have  been  unfor- 
tunately immers'd. 

This  discourse  is  run  out,  we  know  not  how,  into 
greater  heaps  of  leaves  than  was  anyways  thought  of, 
and  has  perhaps  fatigu'd  the  reader  equally  with  the 
penner  of  it ;  yet  can  we  not  dismiss  him,  nor  lay  down 
our  pen,  'till  one  article  more  has  been  enquir'd  into, 
which  seems  no  less  proper  for  the  discussion  of  this 


214  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

place,  than  one  which  we  have  inserted  before,  begin- 
ning at  p.  191 ;  as  we  have  ventur'd  to  stand  up  in  the 
behalf  of  some  of  the  quartos  and  maintain  their  au- 
thenticity, so  mean  we  to  have  the  hardiness  here  to 
defend  some  certain  plays  in  this  collection  from  the 
attacks  of  a  number  of  writers  who  have  thought  fit 
to  call  in  question  their  genuineness:  the  plays  con- 
tested are— The  Three  Parts  of  "Henry  VI."; 
"Love's  Labour's  Lost";  "The  Taming  of  the 
Shrew  " ;  and  "  Titus  Andronicus  " ;  and  the  sum  of 
what  is  brought  against  them,  so  far  at  least  as  is 
hitherto  come  to  the  knowledge,  may  be  all  ulti- 
mately resolv'd  into  the  sole  opinion  of  their  unworthi- 
ness,  exclusive  of  some  weak  surmises  which  do  not 
deserve  a  notice:  it  is  therefore  fair  and  allowable,  by 
all  laws  of  duelling,  to  oppose  opinion  to  opinion ;  which 
if  we  can  strengthen  with  reason,  and  something  like 
proofs,  which  are  totally  wanting  on  the  other  side, 
the  last  opinion  may  chance  to  carry  the  day. 

To  begin  then  with  the  first  of  them,  the  "  Henry  VI." 
in  three  parts.  We  are  quite  in  the  dark  as  to  when  the 
first  part  was  written ;  but  should  be  apt  to  conj  ecture, 
that  it  was  some  considerable  time  after  the  other  two ; 
and,  perhaps,  when  those  two  were  retouch'd,  and  made 
a  little  fitter  than  they  are  in  their  first  draught  to  rank 
with  the  author's  other  plays  which  he  has  f etch'd  from 
our  English  history :  and  those  two  parts,  even  with  all 
their  retouchings,  being  still  much  inferior  to  the  other 
plays  of  that  class,  he  may  reasonably  be  suppos'd  to 
have  underwrit  himself  on  purpose  in  the  first,  that  it 
might  the  better  match  with  those  it  belong'd  to:  now 
that  these  two  plays  (the  first  draughts  of  them,  at 
least),   are  among  his   early   performances,   we  know 


I 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  S15 

certainly  from  their  date;  which  is  further  confirm'd 
by  the  two  concluding  lines  of  his  "  Henry  V."  spoken  by 
the  Chorus;  and  (possibly)  it  were  not  going  too  far, 
to  imagine — that  they  are  his  second  attempt  in  his- 
tory, and  near  in  time  to  his  original  "King  John"  which 
is  also  in  two  parts ;  and,  if  this  be  so,  we  may  safely 
pronounce  them  his,  and  even  highly  worthy  of  him;  it 
being  certain,  that  there  was  no  English  play  upon  the 
stage,  at  that  time,  which  can  come  at  all  in  competition 
with  them;  and  this  probably  it  was,  which  procur'd 
them  the  good  reception  that  is  mention'd  too  in  the 
Chorus.  The  plays  we  are  now  speaking  of  have  been 
inconceivably  mangl'd  either  in  the  copy  or  the  press, 
or  perhaps  both:  yet  this  may  be  discovered  in  them — 
that  the  alterations  made  afterwards  by  the  author 
are  nothing  near  so  considerable  as  those  in  some  other 
plays;  the  incidents,  the  characters,  every  principal 
outline  in  short  being  the  same  in  both  draughts  ;  so  that 
what  we  shall  have  occasion  to  say  of  the  second,  may, 
in  some  degree,  and  without  much  violence,  be  apply'd 
also  to  the  first:  and  this  we  presume  to  say  of  it; — 
that,  low  as  it  must  be  set  in  comparison  with  his  other 
plays,  it  has  beauties  in  it,  and  grandeurs,  of  which  no 
other  author  was  capable  but  Shakespeare  only;  that 
extreamly-affecting  scene  of  the  death  of  young 
Rutland,  that  of  his  father  which  comes  next  it,  and  of 
Clifford,  the  murtherer  of  them  both;  Beaufort^ s 
dreadful  exit,  the  exit  of  King  Henri/,  and  a  scene  of 
wondrous  simplicity  and  wondrous  tenderness  united,  in 
which  that  Henry  is  made  a  speaker,  while  his  last  decis- 
ive battle  is  fighting, — are  as  so  many  stamps  upon  these 
plays;  by  which  his  property  is  mark'd,  and  himself 
declared  the  owner  of  them,  beyond  controversy  as  we 


216  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

think :  and  though  we  have  selected  these  passages  only, 
and  recommended  them  to  observation,  it  had  been  easy 
to  name  abundance  of  others  which  bear  his  mark  as 
strongly:  and  one  circumstance  there  is  that  runs 
through  all  the  three  plays,  by  which  he  is  as  surely  to 
be  known  as  by  any  other  that  can  be  thought  of ;  and 
that  is, — the  preservation  of  character:  all  the  person- 
ages in  them  are  distinctly  and  truly  delineated,  and  the 
character  given  them  sustain'd  uniformly  throughout; 
the  enormous  Richard's  particularly,  which  in  the  third 
of  these  plays  is  seen  rising  towards  its  zenith :  and  who 
sees  not  the  future  monster,  and  acknowledges  at  the 
same  time  the  pen  that  drew  it,  in  those  two  lines  only, 
spoken  over  a  king  who  lies  stab'd  before  him, — 

"  What,  will  the  aspiring  blood  of  Lancaster 
Sink  in  the  ground?    I  thought  it  would  have  mounted."' 

let  him  never  pretend  discernment  hereafter  in  any  case 
of  this  nature. 

It  is  hard  to  persuade  one's  self,  that  the  objectors  to 
the  play  which  comes  next,  are  indeed  serious  in  their 
opinion ;  for  if  he  is  not  visible  in  "  Love's  Labour's 
Lost,"  we  know  not  in  which  of  his  comedies  he  can  be 
said  to  be  so ;  the  ease  and  sprightliness  of  the  dialogue 
in  very  many  parts  of  it ;  it's  quick  turns  of  wit,  and  the 
humour  it  abounds  in;  and  (chiefly)  in  those  truly 
comick  characters,  the  pedant  and  his  companion,  the 
page,  the  constable.  Costard,  and  Armado, — seem 
more  than  sufficient  to  prove  Shakespeare  the  author  of 
it :  and  for  the  blemishes  of  this  play,  we  must  seek  the 
true  cause  in  it's  antiquity;  which  we  may  venture  to 
carry  higher  than  1598,  the  date  of  it's  first  impression : 
•"Henry  VI."  part  III.,  V.,  6. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  SIT 

rime,  when  this  play  appear'd,  was  thought  a  beauty  of 
the  drama,  and  heard  with  singular  pleasure  by  an 
audience,  who  but  a  few  years  before,  had  been 
accustom'd  to  all  rime ;  and  the  measure  we  call  dogrel, 
and  are  so  much  offended  with,  had  no  such  effect  upon 
the  ears  of  that  time :  but  whether  blemishes  or  no,  how- 
ever this  matter  be  which  we  have  brought  to  exculpate 
him,  neither  of  these  articles  can  with  any  face  of  justice 
be  alleg'd  against  "  Love's  Labour's  Lost,"  seeing  they 
are  both  to  be  met  with  in  several  other  plays,  the  gen- 
uineness of  which  has  not  been  question'd  by  any  one. 
And  one  thing  more  shall  be  observ'd  in  the  behalf  of 
this  play; — that  the  author  himself  was  so  Httle  dis- 
pleased at  least  with  some  part  of  it,  that  he  has  brought 
them  a  second  time  upon  the  stage;  for  who  may  not 
perceive  that  his  famous  Benedict  and  Beatrice  are  but 
little  more  than  the  counter-parts  of  Biron  and 
Rosaline?  All  which  circumstances  consider'd,  and  that 
especially  of  the  writer's  childhood  (as  it  may  be 
term'd)  when  this  comedy  was  produc'd,  we  may  con- 
fidently pronounce  it  his  true  offspring,  and  replace 
it  amongst  its  brethren. 

That  the  "  Taming  of  the  Shrew  "  should  ever  have 
been  put  into  this  class  of  plays,  and  adjudg'd  a  spuri- 
\  ous  one,  may  justly  be  reckon'd  wonderful,  when  we 
consider  it's  merit,  and  the  reception  it  has  generally 
met  with  in  the  world:  its  success  at  first,  and  the 
esteem  it  was  then  held  in,  induc'd  Fletcher  to  enter  the 
lists  with  it  in  another  play,  in  which  Petruchio  is 
humbl'd  and  Catharine  triumphant;  and  we  have  it  in 
his  works,  under  the  title  of  "  The  Woman's  Prize,  or, 

I  the  Tamer  tam'd  " :  but,  by  an  unhappy  mistake  of 
buffoonery  for  humour  and  obscenity  for  wit,  which  was 


gl8  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

not  uncommon  with  that  author,  his  production  came 
lamely  off,  and  was  soon  consign'd  to  the  oblivion  in 
which  it  is  now  bury'd;  whereas  this  of  his  antagonist 
flourishes  still,  and  has  maintained  its  place  upon  the 
stage  (in  some  shape  or  other)  from  its  very  first 
appearance  down  to  the  present  hour :  and  this  success  it 
has  merited,  by  true  wit  and  true  humour;  a  fable  of 
very  artful  construction,  much  business,  and  highly 
interesting;  and  by  natural  and  well-sustained  char- 
acters, which  no  pen  but  Shakespeare's  was  capable  of 
drawing :  what  defects  it  has,  are  chiefly  in  the  diction ; 
the  same  (indeed)  with  those  of  the  play  that  was  last- 
mention'd,  and  to  be  accounted  for  the  same  way :  for  we 
are  strongly  inclin'd  to  believe  it  a  neighbour  in  time  to 
"  Love's  Labour's  Lost,"  though  we  want  the  proofs  of 
it  which  we  have  luckily  for  that. 

But  the  plays  which  we  have  already  spoken  of  are  but 
slightly  attack'd,  and  by  few  writers,  in  comparison  of 
this  which  we  are  now  come  to  of  "  Titus  Andronicus  " ; 
commentators,  editors,  every  one  (in  short)  who  has  had 
to  do  with  Shakespeare,  unite  all  in  condemning  it, — 
as  a  very  bundle  of  horrors,  totally  unfit  for  the  stage, 
and  unlike  the  poet's  manner,  and  even  the  style  of  his 
other  pieces;  all  which  allegations  are  extremely  true, 
and  we  readily  admit  of  them,  but  can  not  admit  the  con- 
clusion— that  therefore  it  is  not  his;  and  shall  now 
proceed  to  give  the  reasons  of  our  dissent,  but  (first) 
the  play's  age  must  be  enquir'd  into.  In  the  Induction 
to  Jonson's  "  Bartholomew  Fair,"  which  was  written  in 
the  year  1614,  the  audience  is  thus  accosted; — "Hee 
that  will  sweare,  '  Jeronimo,'  or  '  Andronicus '  are  the 
best  playes,  yet,  shall  passe  unexcepted  at,  heere,  as  a 
man  whose  judgement  shews  it  is  constant,  and  hath 


i 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  219 

stood  still,  these  five  and  twentie,  or  thirty  yeeres. 
Though  it  be  an  ignorance,  it  is  a  vertuous  and  stay'd 
ignorance;  and  next  to  truth,  a  confirm'd  errour  does 
well ;  such  a  one  the  author  knowes  where  to  finde  him." 
We  have  here  the  great  Ben  himself,  joining  this  play 
with  "  Jeronimo,  or  The  Spanish  Tragedy,"  and  bearing 
express  testimony  to  the  credit  they  were  both  in  with 
the  publick  at  the  time  they  were  written;  but  this  by 
the  by ;  to  ascertain  that  time,  was  the  chief  reason  for 
inserting  the  quotation,  and  there  we  see  it  fix'd  to 
twenty-five  or  thirty  years  prior  to  this  Induction :  now 
it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  Jonson  speaks  in 
this  place  with  exact  precision;  but  allowing  that  he 
does,  the  first  of  these  periods  carries  us  back  to  1589, 
a  date  not  very  repugnant  to  what  is  afterwards 
advanc'd:  Langbaine,  in  his  "Account  of  the  English 
Dramatick  Poets,"  under  the  article  "  Shakespeare," 
does  expressly  tell  us, — that  "  *  Andronicus  '  was  first 
printed  in  1594,  quarto,  and  acted  by  the  Earls  of 
Derby,  Pembroke,  and  Essex,  their  servants " ;  and 
though  the  edition  is  not  now  to  be  met  with,  and  he 
who  mentions  it  be  no  exact  writer,  nor  greatly  to  bo 
rely'd  on  in  many  of  his  articles,  yet  in  this  which  we 
have  quoted  he  is  so  very  particular  that  one  can  hardly 
withhold  assent  to  it;  especially,  as  this  account  of  its 
printing  coincides  well  enough  with  Jonson's  sera  of 
writing  this  play;  to  which  therefore  we  subscribe, 
and  go  on  upon  that  ground.  The  books  of  that  time 
afford  strange  examples  of  the  barbarism  of  the  pub- 
lick  taste  both  upon  the  stage  and  elsewhere :  a  conceited 
one  of  John  Lilly's  set  the  whole  nation  a-madding ;  and, 
for  a  while,  every  pretender  to  politeness  "  parl'd 
Euphuism,"  as  it  was  phras'd,  and  no  writings  would  go 


2«0  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

down  with  them  but  such  as  were  pen'd  In  that  fan- 
tastical manner:  the  setter-up  of  this  fashion  try'd  it 
also  in  comedy;  but  seems  to  have  miscarry'd  in  that, 
and  for  this  plain  reason;  the  people  who  govern 
theatres  are,  the  middle  and  lower  order  of  the  world; 
and  these  expected  laughter  in  comedies,  which  this 
stuff  of  Lilly's  was  incapable  of  exciting :  but  some  other 
writers,  who  rose  exactly  at  that  time,  succeeded  better 
in  certain  tragical  performances,  though  as  outrageous 
to  the  full  in  their  way,  and  as  remote  from  nature,  as 
these  comick  ones  of  Lilly ;  for  falling  in  with  that  Innate 
love  of  blood  which  has  been  often  objected  to  British 
audiences,  and  choosing  fables  of  horror  which  they 
made  horrider  still  by  their,  manner  of  handling  them, 
they  produc'd  a  set  of  monsters  that  are  not  to  be 
parallel'd  in  all  the  annals  of  play-writing;  yet  they 
were  received  with  applause,  and  were  the  favourites  of 
the  publick  for  almost  ten  years  together  ending  at 
1595 ;  many  plays  of  this  stamp.  It  Is  probable,  have  per- 
ish'd ;  but  those  that  are  come  down  to  us,  are  as  follows ; 
—"The  Wars  of  Cyrus,"  "  Tamburlaine  the  Great," 
in  two  parts ;  "  The  Spanish  Tragedy,"  likewise  in  two 
parts ;  "  Soliman  and  Perseda,"  and  "  Selimus,  a  trag- 
edy " ;  which  whoever  has  means  of  coming  at,  and  can 
have  patience  to  examine,  will  see  evident  tokens  of  a 
fashion  then  prevailing,  which  occaslon'd  all  these  plays 
to  be  cast  In  the  same  mold.  Now,  Shakespeare,  what- 
ever motives  he  might  have  In  some  other  parts  of  It,  at 
this  period  of  his  life  wrote  certainly  for  profit;  and 
seeing  it  was  to  be  had  In  this  way,  (and  this  way  only, 
perhaps),  he  fell  in  with  the  current,  and  gave  his  sorry 
auditors  a  piece  to  their  tooth  in  this  contested  play  of 
"  Titus  Andronicus  " ;  which  as  it  came  out  at  the  same 


I 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  221 

time  with  the  plays  above-mention'd,  is  most  exactly  like 
them  in  almost  every  particular;  their  very  numbers, 
consisting  all  of  ten  syllables  with  hardly  any  redundant, 
are  copied  by  this  Proteus,  who  could  put  on  any  shape 
that  either  serv'd  his  interest  or  suited  his  inclination: 
and  this,  we  hope,  is  a  fair  and  unf orc'd  way  of  account- 
ing for  "  Andronicus " ;  and  may  convince  the  most 
prejudic'd — that  Shakespeare  might  be  the  writer  of  it ; 
as  he  might  also  of  "Locrine"  which  is  ascribed  to  him,  a 
ninth  tragedy,  in  form  and  time  agreeing  perfectly  with 
the  others.  But  to  conclude  this  article, — However  he 
may  be  censur'd  as  rash  or  ill- judging,  the  editor  ven- 
tures to  declare — that  he  himself  wanted  not  the  convic- 
tion of  the  foregoing  argument  to  be  satisfy'd  who  the 
play  belongs  to;  for  though  a  work  of  imitation,  and 
conforming  itself  to  models  truly  execrable  throughout, 
yet  the  genius  of  its  author  breaks  forth  in  some  places, 
and,  to  the  editor's  eye,  Shakespeare  stands  confess'd: 
the  third  act  in  particular  may  be  read  with  admiration 
even  by  the  most  delicate ;  who,  if  they  are  not  without 
feelings,  may  chance  to  find  themselves  touch'd  by  it 
with  such  passions  as  tragedy  should  excite,  that  is — 
terror,  and  pity.  The  reader  will  please  to  observe — 
that  all  these  contested  plays  are  in  the  folio,  which  is 
dedicated  to  the  poet's  patrons  and  friends,  the  Earls  of 
Pembroke  and  Montgomery,  by  editors  who  are  seem- 
ingly honest  men,  and  profess  themselves  dependant 
upon  those  noblemen,  to  whom  therefore  they  would 
hardly  have  had  the  confidence  to  present  forgeries,  and 
pieces  supposititious ;  in  which  too  they  were  liable  to 
be  detected  by  those  identical  noble  persons  themselves, 
as  well  as  by  a  very  great  part  of  their  other  readers 
nd    auditors:    which    argument,   though   of   no   little 


222  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

strength  in  itself,  we  omitted  to  bring  before,  as  having 
better  (as  we  thought)  and  more  forcible  to  offer;  but 
it  had  behov'd  those  gentlemen  who  have  question'd  the 
plays  to  have  got  rid  of  it  in  the  first  instance  as  it  lies 
full  in  their  way  in  the  very  entrance  upon  this  dispute. 
We  shall  close  this  part  of  the  introduction  with  some 
observations,  that  were  reserv'd  for  this  place,  upon 
that  paragraph  of  the  player-editor's  preface  which  is 
quoted  at  p.  190;  and  then  taking  this  further  liberty 
with  the  reader, — to  call  back  his  attention  to  some  par- 
ticulars that  concern  the  present  edition,  dismiss  him  to 
be  entertain'd  (as  we  hope)  by  a  sort  of  appendix,  con- 
sisting of  those  notes  that  have  been  mention'd,  in  which 
the  true  and  undoubted  originals  of  almost  all  the  poet's 
fables  are  clearly  pointed  out.  But  first  of  the  preface. 
Besides  the  authenticity  of  all  the  several  pieces  that 
make  up  this  collection,  and  their  care  in  publishing 
them,  both  solemnly  affirm'd  in  the  paragraph  refer'd  to, 
we  there  find  these  honest  editors  acknowledging  in 
terms  equally  solemn  the  author's  right  in  his  copies, 
and  lamenting  that  he  had  not  exercis'd  that  right  by  a 
publication  of  them  during  his  life-time;  and  from  the 
manner  in  which  they  express  themselves, we  are  strongly 
inclin'd  to  think — that  he  had  really  form'd  such  a 
design,  but  towards  his  last  days,  and  too  late  to  put  it 
in  execution :  a  collection  of  Jonson's  was  at  that  instant 
in  the  press,  and  upon  the  point  of  coming  forth ;  which 
might  probably  inspire  such  a  thought  into  him  and  his 
companions,  and  produce  conferences  between  them — 
about  a  similar  publication  from  him,  and  the  pieces 
that  should  compose  it,  which  the  poet  might  make  a 
list  of.  It  is  true,  this  is  only  a  supposition ;  but  a  sup- 
position arising  naturally,  as  we  think,  from  the  incident 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS 

that  has  been  mentlon'd,  and  the  expressions  of  his  fel- 
low-players and  editors:  and,  if  suffer'd  to  pass  for 
truth,  here  is  a  good  and  sound  reason  for  the  exclusion 
of  all  those  other  plays  that  have  been  attributed  to  him 
upon  some  grounds  or  other ; — he  himself  has  proscrib'd 
them;  and  we  cannot  forbear  hoping,  that  they  will  in 
no  future  time  rise  up  against  him,  and  be  thrust  into 
his  works ;  a  disavowal  of  weak  and  idle  pieces,  the  pro- 
ductions of  green  years,  wantonness,  or  inattention,  is  a 
right  that  all  authors  are  vested  with;  and  should  be 
exerted  by  all,  if  their  reputation  is  dear  to  them ;  had 
Jonson  us'd  it,  his  character  had  stood  higher  than  it 
does.'  But,  after  all,  they  who  have  pay'd  attention  to 
this  truth  are  not  always  secure;  the  indiscreet  zeal  of 
an  admirer,  or  avarice  of  a  publisher,  has  frequently 
added  things  that  dishonour  them;  and  where  realities 
have  been  wanting,  forgeries  supply  the  place ;  thus  has 
Homer  his  Hymns,  and  the  poor  Mantuan  his  Ciris  and 
his  Culex.  Noble  and  great  authors  demand  all  our  ven- 
eration: where  their  wills  can  be  discover'd,  they  ought 
sacredly  to  be  comply'd  with;  and  that  editor  ill  dis- 
charges his  duty,  who  presumes  to  load  them  with  things 
they  have  renounc'd:  it  happens  but  too  often,  that  we 
have  other  ways  to  shew  our  regard  to  them ;  their  own 
great  want  of  care  in  their  copies,  and  the  still  greater 
want  of  it  that  is  commonly  in  their  impressions,  will 
find  sufficient  exercise  for  any  one's  friendship,  who 
may  wish  to  see  their  works  set  forth  in  that  perfection 
which  was  intended  by  the  author.  And  this  friendship 
re  have  endeavour'd  to  shew  to  Shakespeare  in  the 
jsent  edition ;  the  plan  of  it  has  been  lay'd  before  the 
jader ;  upon  whom  it  rests  to  judge  finally  of  its  good- 
iss,  as  well  as  how  it  is  executed :  but  as  several  matters 


224i  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

have  Interven'd  that  may  have  driven  it  from  his 
memory ;  and  we  are  desirous  above  all  things  to  leave  a 
strong  impression  upon  him  of  one  merit  which  it 
may  certainly  pretend  to,  that  is — it's  fidelity ;  we  shall 
take  leave  to  remind  him,  at  parting,  that — ^Throughout 
all  this  work,  what  is  added  without  the  authority  of 
some  ancient  edition,  is  printed  in  a  black  letter:  what 
alter'd,  and  what  thrown  out,  constantly  taken  notice  of ; 
some  few  times  in  a  note,  where  the  matter  was  long,  or 
of  a  complex  nature ;  but,  more  generally,  at  the  bottom 
of  the  page;  where  what  is  put  out  of  the  text,  how 
minute  and  insignificant  soever,  is  always  to  be  met 
with;  what  alter'd,  as  constantly  set  down,  and  in  the 
proper  words  of  that  edition  upon  which  the  alteration 
is  form'd:  and,  even  in  authoriz'd  readings,  whoever  is 
desirous  of  knowing  further,  what  edition  is  follow'd 
preferably  to  the  others,  may  be  gratify 'd  too  in  that, 
by  consulting  the  "  Various  Readings  "  ;  which  are  now 
finish'd;  and  will  be  publish'd,  together  with  the 
"  Notes,"  in  some  other  volumes,  with  all  the  speed  that 
is  convenient.^ 

•Here  follows  a  summary,  filling  several  pages,  of  the  original 
sources  of  Shakespeare's  plays.  As  it  has  no  critical  value  it  is 
here  omitted. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  225 


ISAAC    REED 

1742-1807 

ISAAC  REED,  the  son  of  a  baker,  was  bom  in 
London,  January,  1742,  and  died  January,  1807. 
He  received  such  slender  education  as  the  narrow 
means  of  his  parents  allowed,  but  was  wisely 
directed  in  his  reading  by  his  father.  Beginning 
life  as  clerk  in  a  solicitor's  office,  he  became  a  convey- 
ancer, and  finally  adopted  literature.  He  was  the 
friend  of  Horace  Walpole,  Bishop  Percy,  Dr.  Farmer, 
and  even  George  Steevens,  with  whom  he  was  associated 
in  Shakespearean  criticism.  He  was  a  modest  man,  the 
editor  of  a  number  of  memoirs  and  collected  works,  to 
which  he  rarely  attached  his  name,  and  of  which  little 
note  is  taken  at  this  day,  save  his  edition  of  "  Doddsley's 
Old  Plays,"  and  his  additions  and  augmentations  to  the 
Johnson  and  Steevens  edition  of  Shakespeare,  pub- 
lished in  1785,  again  in  1793,  and  a  fifth  edition  in 
twenty-one  volumes,  after  his  death  in  1813. 

Reed's    Advertisement,    which   follows,    gives   us  the 
quality  of  the  man,  modest,  sincere,  and  honest. 


REED'S  ADVERTISEMENT 

[The  third  edition,  prefixed  to  a  revision  of  Johnson  and  Stee- 
vens's  text,  1785.] 

The  works  of  Shakespeare,  during  the  last  twenty 
l^fcyears,  have  been  the  objects  of  publick  attention  more 


226  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

editions  of  his  performances  have  been  examined,  his 
obscurities  illuminated,  his  defects  pointed  out,  and  his 
beauties  displayed,  so  fully,  so  accurately,  and  in  so 
satisfactory  a  manner,  that  it  might  reasonably  be  pre- 
sumed little  would  remain  to  be  done  by  either  new 
editors  or  new  commentators :  yet,  though  the  diligence 
and  sagacity  of  those  gentlemen  who  contributed 
towards  the  last  edition  of  this  author  may  seem  to 
have  almost  exhausted  the  subject,  the  same  train  of 
enquiry  has  brought  to  light  new  discoveries,  and  acci- 
dent will  probably  continue  to  produce  further  illustra- 
tions, which  may  render  some  alterations  necessary  in 
every  succeeding  republication. 

Since  the  last  edition  of  this  work  in  1778,  the  zeal  for 
elucidating  Shakespeare,  which  appeared  in  most  of  the 
gentlemen  whose  names  are  affixed  to  the  notes,  has  suf- 
fered little  abatement.  The  same  persevering  spirit  of 
enquiry  has  continued  to  exert  itself,  and  the  same 
laborious  search  into  the  literature,  the  manners,  and 
the  customs  of  the  times,  which  was  formerly  so 
successfully  employed,  has  remained  undiminished. 

By  these  aids  some  new  information  has  been 'obtained, 
and  some  new  materials  collected.  From  the  assistance 
of  such  writers,  even  Shakespeare  will  receive  no 
discredit. 

When  the  very  great  and  various  talents  of  the  last 
editor,  particularly  for  this  work,  are  considered,  it  will 
occasion  much  regret  to  find,  that  having  superintended 
two  editions  of  his  favourite  author  through  the  press, 
he  has  at  length  declined  the  laborious  office,  and  com- 
mitted the  care  of  the  present  edition  to  one  who  laments 
with  the  rest  of  the  world  the  secession  of  his  pre- 
decessor ;  being  conscious,  as  well  of  his  own  inferiority. 


ISAAC   REED 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  227 

as  of  the  injury  the  publication  will  sustain  by  the 
change. 

As  some  alterations  have  been  made  in  the  present 
edition,  it  may  be  thought  necessary  to  point  them  out. 
These  are  of  two  kinds,  additions  and  omissions.  The 
additions  are  such  as  have  been  supplied  by  the  last 
editor,  and  the  principal  of  the  living  commentators. 
To  mention  these  assistances,  is  sufficient  to  excite  expec- 
tation ;  but  to  speak  of  anything  in  their  praise  will  be 
superfluous  to  those  who  are  acquainted  with  their 
former  labours.  Some  remarks  are  also  added  from  new 
commentators,  and  some  notices  extracted  from  books 
which  have  been  published  in  the  course  of  a  few 
years  past. 

Of  the  omissions,  the  most  important  are  some  notes 
which  have  been  demonstrated  to  be  ill  founded,  and 
some  which  were  supposed  to  add  to  the  size  of  the 
volumes  without  increasing  their  value.  It  may  proba- 
bly have  happened  that  a  few  are  rejected  which  ought 
to  have  been  retained;  and  in  that  case  the  present 
editor,  who  has  been  the  occasion  of  their  removal,  will 
feel  some  concern  from  the  injustice  of  his  proceeding. 
jHe  is,  however,  inclined  to  believe,  that  what  he  has 
>mitted  will  be  pardoned  by  the  reader;  and  that  the 
liberty  which  he  has  taken  will  not  be  thought  to  have 
been  licentiously  indulged.  At  all  events,  that  the  cen- 
sure may  fall  where  it  ought,  he  desires  it  to  be  under- 
stood that  no  person  is  answerable  for  any  of  these 

movations  but  himself. 
It  has  been  observed  by  the  last  editor,  that  the  mul- 
titude   of    instances    which    have    been    produced    to 
exemplify  particular  words,  and  explain  obsolete  cus- 
[toms,  may,  when  the  point  is  once  known  to  be  estab- 


228  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

lished,  be  diminished  by  any  future  editor,  and,  in  con- 
formity of  this  opinion,  several  quotations,  which  were 
heretofore  properly  introduced,  are  now  curtailed. 
Were  an  apology  required  on  this  occasion,  the  present 
editor  might  shelter  himself  under  the  authority  of 
Prior,  who  long  ago  has  said, 

"  That  when  one's  proofs  are  aptly  chosen. 
Four  are  as  valid  as  four  dozen." 

The  present  editor  thinks  it  unnecessary  to  say  any 
thing  of  his  own  share  in  the  work,  except  that  he 
undertook  it  in  consequence  of  an  application  which  was 
too  flattering  and  too  honourable  to  him  to  decline.  He 
mentions  this  only  to  have  it  known  that  he  did  not 
intrude  himself  into  the  situation.  He  is  not  insensible, 
that  the  task  would  have  been  better  executed  by  many 
other  gentlemen,  and  particularly,  by  some  whose  names 
appear  to  the  notes.  He  has  added  but  little  to  the  bulk 
of  the  volumes  from  his  own  observations,  having,  upon 
every  occasion,  rather  chosen  to  avoid  a  note,  than  to 
court  the  opportunity  of  inserting  one.  The  liberty  he 
has  taken  of  omitting  some  remarks,  he  is  confident,  has 
been  exercised  without  prejudice  and  without  par- 
tiality; and  therefore,  trusting  to  the  candour  and 
indulgence  of  the  publick,  will  forbear  to  detain  them 
any  longer  from  the  entertainment  they  may  receive 
from  the  greatest  poet  of  this  or  any  other  nation. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  229 


EDMUND    MALONE 

1741-1812 

EDMUND  MALONE  was  bom  in  Dublin, 
October  4,  1741,  and  died  in  London,  May 
!  25,  1812. 
He  was  educated  at  Trinity  College, 
Dublin,  and  became  a  member  of  the  Irish  bar.  He 
turned  his  back,  however,  both  upon  the  land  of 
his  birth  and  the  profession  of  his  adoption,  and  set- 
tling in  London  in  the  year  1777,  devoted  himself  to 
literature,  and  mainly  to  Shakespearean  criticism.  His 
first  essay  in  this  field  was  "  An  Attempt  to  Ascertain 
the  Order  in  Which  the  Plays  of  Shakespeare  Were 
Written "  (1778)  ;  followed  two  years  later  by  two 
volumes  supplementary  to  the  Steevens  and  Johnson 
edition  of  the  works. 

These  volumes  opened  a  new  era  in  Shakespearean  inter- 
pretation. They  contained  the  "  Supplemental  Observa- 
tions," as  he  called  them,  which  were  afterwards  made 
the  basis  of  his  history  of  the  English  stage ;  a  reprint 
of  Arthur  Brooke's  translation  from  the  Italian  of  the 
old  poem,  "  Romeus  and  Juliet,"  the  "  Yenus  and 
Adonis,"  "  Rape  of  Lucrece,"  "  Sonnets,"  "  Passionate 
Pilgrim,"  and  "  A  Lover's  Complaint  of  Shakespeare  "  ; 
and  the  seven  doubtful  plays,  "  Pericles,"  "  Locrine," 
"Sir  John  Oldcastle,"  "Lord  Cromwell,"  "London 
Prodigal,"  "The  Puritans,"  and  "The  Yorkshire 
Tragedy." 

A  first  and  second  appendix  followed  these  Yolumes, 
containing  additional  notes  and  emendations. 


^SO  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

His  own  complete  edition  of  the  "  Plays  and  Poems," 
in  ten  volumes,  appeared  in  1790,  and  gave  evidence 
of  a  patient  and  plodding  industry,  accompanied  by 
critical  powers  of  great  ability.  This  was  the  most 
monumental  of  all  editions  up  to  that  date;  containing 
not  only  "  the  corrections  and  illustrations  of  various 
commentators,"  but  to  which  were  added,  "  an  essay  on 
the  chronological  order  of  his  plays  (previously  pub- 
lished) ;  a^  essay  relating  to  Shakespeare  and  Johnson ; 
a  dissertation  on  the  three  parts  of  *  King  Henry  VI.' 
and  an  historical  account  of  the  '  English  Stage.'  " 

In  1796  Malone  published  "  An  Inquiry  Into  the 
Authenticity  of  Certain  Miscellaneous  Papers  and 
Legal  Instruments,"  etc.,  known  as  the  "  Ireland  Forg- 
eries," which  sufficiently  exposed  the  duplicity  of  young 
William  Henry  Ireland,  who  claimed  to  have  discovered 
a  number  of  autographs  of  Shakespeare,  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, and  of  the  Earl  of  Southampton,  with  one  whole 
play  of  the  former's  and  fragments  of  others. 

Malone  edited  the  works  of  Dryden,  William  Gerard 
Hamilton  and  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  Visiting  Stratford 
and  the  tomb  of  the  poet,  he  convinced  the  vicar  that 
the  monument  of  Shakespeare  should  not  be  in  colors  as 
originally  designed,  and  was  allowed  to  cover  it  with 
white  paint.  It  was  restored  as  nearly  as  possible  to  its 
former  state  more  than  half  a  century  later ;  but  gave 
rise  to  the  following  bitter  screed  published  in  the 
"  Gentleman's  Magazine,"  1815 : 

"  Stranger,  to  whom  this  monument  is  shown, 
Invoke  the  poet's  curse  upon  Malone; 
Whose   meddling  zeal  his   barbarous   taste  displays. 
And  daubs  his  tombstone  as  he  mars  his  plays." 


^;^.y^  /9'7^K^-^^^><H.^^^ 


^     OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


TO  SHAKESPEARE'S  PLAYS    231 

MALONE'S  PREFACE 

[Prefixed  to  octavo  edition  in  10  volumes,  1790.] 

In  the  following  work,  the  labour  of  eight  years,  I  have 
endeavoured,  with  unceasing  solicitude,  to  give  a  faith- 
ful and  correct  edition  of  the  plays  and  poems  of  Shake- 
speare. Whatever  imperfection  or  errors  therefore,  may 
be  found  in  it,  (and  what  work  of  so  great  a  length 
and  difficulty  was  ever  free  from  error  or  imperfection?) 
will,  I  trust,  be  imputed  to  any  other  cause  than  want  of 
zeal  for  the  due  execution  of  the  task  which  I  venture  to 
undertake. 

The  difficulties  to  be  encountered  by  an  editor  of  the 
works  of  Shakespeare,  have  been  so  frequently  stated, 
and  are  so  generally  acknowledged,  that  it  may 
seem  unnecessary  to  conciliate  the  publick  favour  by 
this  plea :  but  as  these  in  my  opinion  have  in  some  par- 
ticulars, been  over-rated,  and  in  others,  not  sufficiently 
insisted  on,  and  as  the  true  state  of  the  ancient  copies  of 
this  poet's  writings  has  never  been  laid  before  the  pub- 
lick,  I  shall  consider  the  subject  as  if  it  had  not  been 
already  discussed  by  preceding  editors. 

In  the  year  1756  Dr.  Johnson  published  the  following 
excellent  scheme  of  a  new  edition  of  Shakespeare's 
<  dramatick  pieces,  which  he  completed  in  1765 : 

"  When  the  works  of  Shakespeare  are,  after  so  many 

litions,  again  offered  to  the  publick,  it  will  doubtless  be 
inquired,  why  Shakespeare  stands  in  more  need  of  crit- 
ical assistance  than  any  other  of  the  English  writers, 
fend  what  are  the  deficiencies  of  the  late  attempts,  which 
another  editor  may  hope  to  supply. 

The  business  of  him  that  republishes  an  ancient  book 

I,  to  correct  what  is  corrupt,  and  to  explain  what  is 


83«  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

obscure.  To  have  a  text  corrupt  in  many  places,  and 
in  many  doubtful,  is,  among  the  authors  that  have 
written  since  the  use  of  types,  almost  peculiar  to 
Shakespeare.  Most  writers,  by  publishing  their  own 
works,  prevent  all  various  readings  and  preclude  all 
conjectural  criticism.  Books  indeed  are  sometimes 
published  after  the  death  of  him  who  produced  them, 
but  they  are  better  secured  from  corruption  than  these 
unfortunate  compositions.  They  subsist  in  a  single 
copy,  written  or  revised  by  the  author ;  and  the  faults 
of  the  printed  volume  can  be  only  faults  of  one  descent. 

"  But  of  the  works  of  Shakespeare  the  condition  has 
been  far  different:  he  sold  them,  not  to  be  printed,  but 
to  be  played.  They  were  immediately  copied  for  the 
actors,  and  multiplied  by  transcript  after  transcript, 
vitiated  by  the  blunders  of  the  penman,  or  changed  by 
the  affectation  of  the  player;  perhaps  enlarged  to  in- 
troduce a  jest,  or  mutilated  to  shorten  the  representa- 
tion; and  printed  at  last  without  the  concurrence  of 
the  author,  without  the  consent  of  the  proprietor,  from 
compilations  made  by  chance  or  by  stealth  out  of  the 
separate  parts  written  for  the  theatre:  and  thus  thrust 
into  the  world  surreptitiously  and  hastily,  they  suf- 
fered another  depravation  from  the  ignorance  and  negli- 
gence of  the  printers,  as  every  man  who  knows  the  state 
of  the  press  in  that  age  will  readily  conceive. 

*'  It  is  not  easy  for  invention  to  bring  together  so  many 
causes  concurring  to  vitiate  a  text.  No  other  author 
ever  gave  up  his  works  to  fortune  and  time  with  so  little 
care;  no  books  could  be  left  in  hands  so  likely  to  injure 
them,  as  plays  frequently  acted,  yet  continued  in  manu- 
script: no  other  transcribers  were  likely  to  be  so  little 
qualified  for  their  task,  as  those  who  copied  for  the  stage, 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  233 

at  a  time  when  the  lower  ranks  of  the  people  were  uni- 
versally illiterate:  no  other  editions  were  made  from 
fragments  so  minutely  broken,  and  so  fortuitously  re- 
united ;  and  in  no  other  age  was  the  art  of  printing  in 
such  unskilful  hands. 

"  With  the  causes  of  corruption  that  make  the  revisal 
of  Shakespeare's  dramatick  pieces  necessary,  may  be 
enumerated  the  causes  of  obscurity,  which  may  be  partly 
imputed  to  his  age,  and  partly  to  himself. 

"  When  a  writer  outlives  his  contemporaries,  and  re- 
mains almost  the  only  unforgotten  name  of  a  distant 
time,  he  is  necessarily  obscure.  Every  age  has  its  modes 
of  speech,  and  its  cast  of  thought ;  which,  though  easily 
explained  when  there  are  many  books  to  be  compared 
with  each  other,  become  sometimes  unintelligible,  and 
always  difficult,  when  there  are  no  parallel  passages  that 
may  conduce  to  their  illustration.  Shakespeare  is  the 
first  considerable  author  of  sublime  or  familiar  dialogue 
in  our  language.  Of  the  books  which  he  read,  and  from 
which  he  formed  his  style  some  perhaps  have  perished, 
and  the  rest  are  neglected.  His  imitations  are  therefore 
unnoted,  his  allusions  are  undiscovered,  and  many 
beauties  both  of  pleasantry  and  greatness,  are  lost 
with  the  objects  to  which  they  were  united,  as  the  figures 
vanish  when  the  canvas  has  decayed. 

"  It  is  the  great  excellence  of  Shakespeare,  that  he  drew 
his  scenes  from  nature,  and  from  life.  He  copied  the 
manners  of  the  world  then  passing  before  him,  and  has 
more  allusions  than  other  poets  to  the  traditions  and 
superstitions  of  the  vulgar;  which  must  therefore  be 
traced  before  we  can  understand. 

"  He  wrote  at  a  time  when  our  poetical  language  was 
yet  unformed,  when  the  meaning  of  our  phrases  was  yet 


^34  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

\ 

in  fluctuation,  when  words  were  adopted  at  pleasure  from 

the  neighbouring  languages,  and  while  the  Saxon  was 
still  visibly  mingled  in  our  diction.  The  reader  is  there- 
fore embarrassed  at  once  with  dead  and  with  foreisTi 
languages,  with  obsoleteness  and  innovation.  In  that 
age,  as  in  all  others,  fashion  produced  phraseology, 
which  succeeding  fashion  swept  away  before  its  mean- 
ing was  generally  known,  or  sufficiently  authorized ;  and 
in  that  age,  above  all  others,  experiments  were  made 
upon  our  language,  which  distorted  its  combinations, 
and  disturbed  its  uniformity. 

"  If  Shakespeare  has  difficulties  above  other  writers,  it  is 
to  be  imputed  to  the  nature  of  his  work,  which  required 
the  use  of  the  common  colloquial  language,  and  con- 
sequently admitted  many  phrases  allusive,  elliptical, 
and  proverbial,  such  as  we  speak  and  hear  every  hour 
without  observing  them;  and  of  which,  being  now 
familiar,  we  do  not  suspect  that  they  can  ever  grow 
uncouth,  or  that,  being  now  obvious,  they  can  ever  seem  j 
remote.  ^ 

"  These  are  the  principal  causes  of  the  obscurity  of 
Shakespeare;  to  which  may  be  added  that  fullness  of 
idea,  which  might  sometimes  load  his  words  with  more 
sentiment  than  they  could  conveniently  convey,  and 
that  rapidity  of  imagination  which  might  hurry  him 
to  a  second  thought  before  he  had  fully  explained  the 
first.  But  my  opinion  is,  that  very  few  of  his  lines  were 
difficult  to  his  audijence,  and  that  he  used  such  expres- 
sions as  were  then  common,  though  the  paucity  of  con-  I 
temporary  writers  makes  them  now  seem  peculiar. 

"  Authors  are  often  praised  for  improvement,  or  blamed 
for  innovation,  with  very  little  justice,  by  those  who 
read  few  other  books  of  the  same  age.    Addison  himself 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  235 

has  been  so  unsuccessful  in  enumerating  the  words  with 
which  Milton  has  enriched  our  language,  as  perhaps  not 
to  have  named  one  of  which  Milton  was  the  author ;  and 
Bentley  has  yet  more  unhappily  praised  him  as  the  intro- 
ducer of  those  elisions  into  English  poetry,  which  had 
been  used  from  the  first  essays  of  versification  among 
us,  and  which  Milton  was  indeed  the  last  that  practised. 

"  Another  impediment,  not  the  least  vexatious  to  the 
commentator,  is  the  exactness  with  which  Shakespeare 
followed  his  author.  Instead  of  dilating  his  thoughts 
into  generalities,  and  expressing  incidents  with  poetical 
latitude,  he  often  combines  circumstances  unnecessary 
to  his  main  design,  only  because  he  happened  to  find 
them  together.  Such  passages  can  be  illustrated  only 
by  him  who  has  read  the  same  story  in  the  very  book 
which  Shakespeare  consulted. 

"  He  that  undertakes  an  edition  of  Shakespeare,  has  all 
these  difficulties  to  encounter,  and  all  these  obstructions 
to  remove. 

"  The  corruptions  of  the  text  will  be  corrected  by  a 
careful  collation  of  the  oldest  copies,  by  which  it  is  hoped 
that  many  restorations  may  yet  be  made ;  at  least  it  will 
be  necessary  to  collect  and  note  the  variations  as  mate- 
rials for  future  criticks,  for  it  very  often  happens  that 
a  wrong  reading  has  affinity  to  the  right. 

"  In  this  part  all  the  present  editions  are  apparently 
and  intentionally  defective.  The  criticks  did  not  so  much 
as  wish  to  facilitate  the  labour  of  those  that  followed 
them.  The  same  books  are  still  to  be  compared;  the 
work  that  has  been  done,  is  to  be  done  again,  and  no 
single  edition  will  supply  the  reader  with  a  text  on 

rhich  he  can  rely  as  the  best  copy  of  the  works  of 

Jhakespeare. 


236  FAMOUS   INTRODUCTIONS 

"  The  edition  now  proposed  will  at  least  have  this  ad- 
vantage over  others.  It  will  exhibit  all  the  observable 
varieties  of  all  the  copies  that  can  be  found ;  that,  if  the 
reader  is  not  satisfied  with  the  editor's  determination, 
he  may  have  the  means  of  choosing  better  for  himself. 

"  Where  all  the  books  are  evidently  vitiated  and  colla- 
tion can  give  no  assistance,  then  begins  the  task  of  criti- 
cal sagacity;  and  some  changes  may  well  be  admitted 
in  a  text  never  settled  by  the  author,  and  so  long  ex- 
posed to  caprice  and  ignorance.  But  nothing  shall  be 
imposed,  as  in  the  Oxford  edition,  without  notice  of  the 
alteration ;  nor  shall  conjecture  be  wantonly  or  unneces- 
sarily indulged. 

"  It  has  been  long  found,  that  very  spacious  emenda- 
tions do  not  equally  strike  all  minds  with  conviction,  nor 
even  the  same  mind  at  different  times;  and,  therefore, 
though  perhaps  many  alterations  may  be  proposed  as 
eligible,  very  feW  will  be  obtruded  as  certain.  In  a  lan- 
guage so  ungrammatical  as  the  English,  and  so  licentious 
as  that  of  Shakespeare,  emendatory  criticism  is  always 
hazardous ;  nor  can  it  be  allowed  to  any  man  who  is  not 
particularly  versed  in  the  writings  of  that  age,  and  par- 
ticularly studious  of  his  author's  diction.  There  is 
danger  lest  peculiarities  should  be  mistaken  for  corrup- 
tions, and  passages  rejected  as  unintelligible,  which  a 
narrow  mind  happens  not  to  understand. 

"  All  the  former  criticks  have  been  so  much  employed  on 
the  correction  of  the  text,  that  they  have  not  sufficiently 
attended  to  the  elucidation  of  passages  obscured  by  acci- 
dent or  time.  The  editor  will  endeavour  to  read  the 
books  which  the  author  read,  to  trace  his  knowledge  to 
its  source,  and  compare  his  copies  with  the  originals. 
If  in  this  part  of  his  design  he  hopes  to  attain  any  de- 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  237 

gree  of  superiority  to  his  predecessors,  it  must  be  con- 
sidered, that  he  has  the  advantage  of  their  labours ;  that 
part  of  the  work  being  already  done,  more  care  is  natu- 
rally bestowed  on  the  other  part;  and  that,  to  declare 
the  truth,  Mr.  Rowe  and  Mr.  Pope  were  very  ignorant 
of  the  ancient  English  literature;  Dr.  Warburton  was 
detained  by  more  important  studies ;  and  Mr.  Theobald, 
if  fame  be  just  to  his  memory,  considered  learning  only 
as  an  instrument  of  gain,  and  made  no  further  inquiry 
after  his  author's  meaning,  when  once  he  had  notes  suffi- 
cient to  embellish  his  page  with  the  expected  decorations. 

"  With  regard  to  obsolete  or  peculiar  diction,  the  editor 
may  perhaps  claim  some  degree  of  confidence,  having 
had  more  motives  to  consider  the  whole  extent  of  our 
language  than  any  other  man  from  its  first  formation. 
He  hopes,  that,  by  comparing  the  works  of  Shakespeare 
with  those  of  writers  who  lived  at  the  same  time,  imme- 
diately preceded,  or  immediately  followed  him,  he  shall 
be  able  to  ascertain  his  ambiguities,  disentangle  his  in- 
tricacies, and  recover  the  meaning  of  words  now  lost  in 
the  darkness  of  antiquity. 

"  When,  therefore,  any  obscurity  arises  from  an  allusion 
to  some  other  book,  the  passage  will  be  quoted.  When 
the  diction  is  entangled,  it  will  be  cleared  by  a  para- 
phrase or  interpretation.  When  the  sense  is  broken  by 
the  suppression  of  part  of  the  sentiment  in  pleasantry 
or  passion,  the  connection  will  be  supplied.  When  any 
forgotten  custom  is  hinted,  care  will  be  taken  to  retrieve 
and  explain  it.  The  meaning  assigned  to  doubtful  words 
will  be  supported  by  the  authorities  of  other  writers,  or 
by  parallel  passages  of  Shakespeare  himself. 

*'  The  observation  of  faults  and  beauties  is  one  of  the 
iduties  of  an  annotator,  which  some  of  Shakespeare's 


^38  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

editors  have  attempted,  and  some  have  neglected.  For 
this  part  of  his  task,  and  for  this  only,  was  Mr.  Pope 
eminently  and  indisputably  qualified:  nor  has  Dr.  War- 
burton  followed  him  with  less  diligence  or  less  success. 
But  I  never  observed  that  mankind  was  much  delighted 
or  improved  by  their  asterisks,  commas,  or  double  com- 
mas ;  of  which  the  only  effect  is,  that  they  preclude  the 
pleasure  of  judging  for  ourselves ;  teach  the  young  and 
ignorant  to  decide  without  principles;  defeat  curiosity 
and  discernment  by  leaving  them  less  to  discover ;  and, 
at  last,  show  the  opinion  of  the  critick,  without  the 
reasons  on  which  it  was  founded,  and  without  affording 
any  light  by  which  it  may  be  examined. 

"  The  editor,  though  he  may  less  delight  his  own  vanity, 
will  probably  please  his  reader  more,  by  supposing  him 
equally  able  with  himself  to  judge  of  beauties  and  faults, 
which  require  no  previous  acquisition  of  remote  knowl- 
edge. A  description  of  the  obvious  scenes  of  nature, 
a  representation  of  general  life,  a  sentiment  of  reflec- 
tion or  experience,  a  deduction  of  conclusive  argument, 
a  forcible  eruption  of  effervescent  passion,  are  to  be 
considered  as  proportionate  to  common  apprehensions, 
unassisted  by  critical  officiousness ;  since  to  conceive 
them,  nothing  more  is  requisite  than,  acquaintance  with 
the  general  state  of  the  world,  and  those  faculties  which 
he  must  always  bring  with  him  who  would  read  Shake- 
speai'e. 

"  But  when  the  beauty  arises  from  some  adaptation  of 
the  sentiment  to  customs  worn  out  of  use,  to  opinions 
not  universally  prevalent,  or  to  any  accidental  or  minute 
particularity,  which  cannot  be  supplied  by  common 
understanding,  or  common  observation,  it  is  the  duty 
of  a  commentator  to  lend  his  assistance. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  239 

"  The  notice  of  beauties  and  faults  thus  limited  will 
make  no  distinct  part  of  the  design,  being  reducible  to 
the  explanation  of  obscure  passages. 

"  The  editor  does  not,  however,  intend  to  preclude  him- 
self from  the  comparison  of  Shakespeare's  sentiments 
or  expressions  with  those  of  ancient  or  modern  authors, 
or  from  the  display  of  any  beauty  not  obvious  to  the 
students  of  poetry,  for,  as  he  hopes  to  leave  his  author 
better  understood,  he  wishes  likewise  to  procure  him 
more  rational  approbation. 

"  The  former  editors  have  affected  to  slight  their 
predecessors :  but  in  this  edition  all  that  is  valuable  will 
be  adopted  from  every  commentator,  that  posterity  may 
consider  it  as  including  all  the  rest  and  exhibit  whatever 
is  hitherto  known  of  the  great  father  of  the  English 
drama." 

Though  Dr.  Johnson  has  here  pointed  out  with  his 
usual  perspicuity  and  vigour,  the  true  course  to  be 
taken  by  an  editor  of  Shakespeare,  some  of  the  posi- 
tions which  he  has  laicf  down  may  be  controverted,  and 
some  are  indubitably  not  true.  It  is  not  true  that  the 
plays  of  this  author  were  more  incorrectly  printed  than 
those  of  any  of  his  contemporaries :  for  in  the  plays  of 
Marlowe,  Marston,  Fletcher,  Massinger,  and  others,  as 
many  errors  may  be  found.  It  is  not  true  that  the  art 
of  printing  was  in  no  other  age  in  so  unskilful  hands. 
Nor  is  it  true,  in  the  latitude  in  which  it  is  stated,  that 
"  these  plays  were  printed  from  compilations  made  by 
chance  or  by  stealth  out  of  the  separate  parts  written 
for  the  theatre";  two  only  of  all  his  dramas,  "The 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  and  "  King  Henry  V.," 
appear  to  have  been  thus  thrust  into  the  world,  and  of 
the  former  it  is  yet  a  doubt  whether  it  is  a  first  sketch 


240  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

or  an  imperfect  copy.  I  do  not  believe  that  words  were 
then  adopted  at  pleasure  from  the  neighbouring 
languages,  or  that  an  antiquated  diction  was  then  em- 
ployed by  any  poet  but  Spenser.  That  the  obscurities 
of  our  author,  to  whatever  cause  they  may  be  referred, 
do  not  arise  from  the  paucity  of  contemporary  writers, 
the  present  edition  may  furnish  indisputable  evidence. 
And  lastly,  if  it  be  true,  that  "  very  few  of  Shake- 
speare's lines  were  difficult  to  his  audience,  and  that  he 
used  such  expressions  as  were  then  common,"  (a  posi- 
tion of  which  I  have  not  the  smallest  doubt),  it  cannot' 
be  true,  that  "  his  reader  is  embarrassed  at  once  with 
dead  and  with  foreign  languages,  with  obsoleteness  and 
innovation." 

When  Mr.  Pope  first  undertook  the  task  of  revising 
these  plays,  every  anomaly  of  language,  and  every  ex- 
pression that  was  not  understood  at  that  time,  were  con- 
sidered as  errors  or  corruptions,  and  the  text  was 
altered,  or  amended,  as  it  was  called,  at  pleasure.  The 
principal  writers  of  the  early  part  of  this  century  seem 
never  to  have  looked  behind  them,  and  to  have  con- 
sidered their  own  era  and  their  own  phraseology  as  the 
standard  of  perfection :  hence,  from  the  time  of  Pope's 
edition,  for  above  twenty  years,  to  alter  Shakespeare's 
text  and  to  restore  it,  were  considered  as  synonymous 
terms.  During  the  last  thirty  years  our  principal  em- 
ployment has  been  to  restore,  in  the  true  sense  of  the 
word;  to  eject  the  arbitrary  and  capricious  innovations 
made  by  our  predecessors  from  ignorance  of  the  phrase- 
ology and  customs  of  the  age  in  which  Shakespeare 
lived. 

As  on  the  one  hand  our  poet's  text  has  been  described 
as  more  corrupt  than  it  really  is,  so  on  the  other,  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  241 

labour  required  to  investigate  fugitive  allusions,  to  ex- 
plain and  justify  obsolete  phraseology  by  parallel  pas- 
sages from  contemporary  authors,  and  to  form  a  genuine 
text  by  a  faithful  collation  of  the  original  copies,  has 
not  perhaps  had  that  notice  to  which  it  is  entitled;  for 
undoubtedly  it  is  a  laborious  and  a  difficult  task :  and  the 
due  execution  of  this  it  is,  which  can  ajone  entitle  an 
editor  of  Shakespeare  to  the  favour  of  the  publick. 

I  have  said  that  the  comparative  value  of  the  various 
ancient  copies  of  Shakespeare's  plays  has  never  been 
precisely  ascertained.  To  prove  this,  it  will  be  neces- 
sary to  go  into  a  long  and  minute  discussion  for  which, 
however,  no  apology  is  necessary ;  for  though  to  explain 
and  illustrate  the  writings  of  our  poet  is  a  principal  duty 
of  his  editor,  to  ascertain  his  genuine  text,  to  fix  what 
is  to  be  explained,  is  his  first  and  immediate  object:  and 
till  it  be  established  which  of  the  ancient  copies  is  entitled 
to  preference,  we  have  no  criterion  by  which  the  text  can 
be  ascertained. 

Fifteen  of  Shakespeare's  plays  were  printed  in  quarto 
antecedent  to  the  first  complete  collection  of  his  works, 
which  was  published  by  his  fellow-comedians  in  1623. 
These  plays  are,  "  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream," 
"  Love's  Labour's  Lost,"  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  "  Ham- 
let," The  Two  Parts  of  "King  Henry  IV.,"  "King 
Richard  XL,"  "King  Richard  III.,"  "The  Merchant  of 
Venice,"  "  King  Henry  V.,"  "  Much  Ado  About  Noth- 
ing," "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  "  Troilus  and 
Cressida,"  "  King  Lear,"  and  "  Othello." 

The  players,  when  they  mention  these  copies,  represent 
them  all  as  mutilated  and  imperfect ;  but  this  was  merely 
thrown  out  to  give  an  additional  value  to  their  own 
edition,  and  is  not  strictly  true  of  any  but  two  of  the 


242  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

whole  number ;  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  and 
"  King  Henry  V." — ^With  respect  to  the  other  thirteen 
copies,  though  undoubtedly  they  were  all  surreptitious, 
that  is,  stolen  from  the  playhouse,  and  printed  without 
the  consent  of  the  author  or  the  proprietors,  they  in 
general  are  preferable  to  the  exhibition  of  the  same 
plays  in  the  folio ;  for  this  plain  reason,  because  instead 
of  printing  these  plays  from  a  manuscript,  the  editors 
of  the  folio,  to  save  labour,  or  from  some  other  motive, 
printed  the  greater  part  of  them  from  the  very  copies 
which  they  represented  as  maimed  and  imperfect,  and 
frequently  from  a  late,  instead  of  the  earliest  edition; 
in  some  instances  with  additions  and  alteration  of  their 
own.  Thus,  therefore,  the  first  folio,  as  far  as  respects 
the  plays  above  enumerated,  labours  under  the  disad- 
vantage of  being  at  least  a  second,  and  in  some  cases  a 
third,  edition  of  these  quartos.  I  do  not,  however,  mean 
to  say,  that  many  valuable  corrections  of  passages  un- 
doubtedly corrupt  in  the  quartos  are  not  found  in  the 
folio  copy;  or  that  a  single  line  of  these  plays  should 
be  printed  by  a  careful  editor  without  a  minute  exami- 
nation, and  collation  of  both  copies ;  but  those  quartos 
were  in  general  the  basis  on  which  the  folio  editors  built, 
and  are  entitled  to  our  particular  attention  and  examina- 
tion as  first  editions. 

It  is  well  known  to  those  who  are  conversant  with  the 
business  of  the  press,  that  (unless  when  the  author  cor- 
rects and  revises  his  own  works)  as  editions  of  books 
are  multiplied,  their  errors  are  multiplied  also ;  and  that 
consequently  every  such  edition  is  more  or  less  correct, 
as  it  approaches  nearer  to  or  is  more  distant  from  the 
first.  A  few  instances  of  the  gradual  progress  of  cor- 
ruption will  fully  evince  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 


i 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  ^43 

[Here  follow,  in  the  original,  several  pages  of  examples 
of  what  Malone  considered  as  corruptions  of  the  text, 
which  are  omitted  as  having  no  special  interest  to  the 
general  reader.] 

So  little  known  indeed  was  the  value  of  the  early  im- 
pressions of  books  (not  revised  or  corrected  by  their 
authors),  that  King  Charles  the  First,  though  a  great 
admirer  of  our  poet,  was  contented  with  the  second  folio 
edition  of  his  plays,  unconscious  of  the  numerous  mis- 
representations and  interpolations  by  which  every  page 
of  that  copy  is  disfigured ;  and  in  a  volume  of  the  quarto 
plays  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  which  formerly  be- 
longed to  that  king,  and  is  now  in  my  collection,  I  did 
not  find  a  single  first  impression.  In  like  manner.  Sir 
William  D'Avenant,  when  he  made  his  alteration  of  the 
play  of  "  Macbeth,"  appears  to  have  used  the  third 
folio  printed  in  1664. 

The  various  readings  found  in  the  different  impressions 
of  the  quarto  copies  are  frequently  mentioned  by  the 
late  editors:  it  is  obvious  from  what  has  been  already 
stated,  that  the  first  edition  of  each  play  is  alone  of  any 
authority,  and  accordingly  to  no  other  have  I  paid  any 
attention.  All  the  variations  in  the  subsequent  quartos 
were  made  by  accident  or  caprice.  When,  however,  there 
are  two  editions  printed  in  the  same  year,  or  an  undated 
copy,  it  is  necessary  to  examine  each  of  them,  because 
which  of  them  was  first,  cannot  be  ascertained ;  and  being 
each  printed  from  a  manuscript,  they  carry  with  them  a 
degree  of  authority  to  which  a  re-impression  cannot  be 
entitled.  Of  the  tragedy  of  "  King  Lear,"  there  are  no 
less  than  three  copies,  varying  from  each  other,  printed 
for  the  same  bookseller,  and  in  the  same  year. 


544.  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Of  all  the  plays  of  which  there  are  no  quarto  copies 
extant,  the  first  folio,  printed  in  1623,  is  the  only  au-  ' 
thentick  edition. 

An  opinion  has  been  entertained  by  some  that  the 
second  impression  of  that  book,  published  in  1632,  has 
a  similar  claim  to  authenticity.    "  Whoever  has  any  of 
the  folios  (says  Dr.  Johnson),  has  all,  excepting  those 
diversities  which  mere  reiteration  of  editions  will  pro-   ' 
duce.     I  collated  them  all  at  the  beginning,  but  after- 
wards used  only  the  first,  from  which  (he  afterwards  ' 
adds),  the  subsequent  folios  never  differ  but  by  accident  ■ 
or  negligence."     Mr.  Steevens,  however,  does  not  sub- 
scribe to  this  opinion.    "  The  edition  of  1632  (says  that 
gentleman),  is  not  without  value;  for  though  it  be  in 
some  places  more  incorrectly  printed  than  the  preceding 
one,  it  has  likewise  the  advantage  of  various  readings, 
which  are  not  merely  such  as  reiteration  of  copies  wil 
naturally  produce." 

What  Dr.  Johnson  has  stated,  is  not  quite  accurate. 
The  second  folio  does  indeed  very  frequently  differ  from 
the  first  by  negligence  or  chance;  but  much  more  fre- 
quently by  the  editor's  profound  ignorance  of  our  poet's 
phraseology  and  metre,  in  consequence  of  which  there  is 
scarce  a  page  of  the  book  which  is  not  disfigured  by  the 
capricious  alterations  introduced  by  the  person  to  whom 
the  care  of  that  impression  was  entrusted.  This  person; 
in  fact,  whoever  he  was,  and  Mr.  Pope,  were  the  two 
great  corrupters  of  our  poet's  text;  and  I  have  no, 
doubt  that  if  the  arbitrary  alterations  introduced  by 
these  two  editors  were  numbered,  in  the  plays  of  which 
no  quarto  copies  are  extant,  they  would  greatly  exceed 
all  the  corruptions  and  errors  of  the  press  in  the  origi- 
nal and  only  authentick  copy  of  those  plays.     Though 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  245 

i"y  judgment  oii  this  subject  has  been  formed  after  a 
very  careful  examination,  I  cannot  expect  that  it  should 
be  received  on  my  mere  assertion:  and  therefore  it  is 
necessary  to  substantiate  it  by  proof.  This  cannot  be 
effected  but  by  a  long,  minute,  and  what  I  am  afraid 
will  appear  to  many,  an  uninteresting  disquisition:  but 
let  it  still  be  remembered  that  to  ascertain  the  genuine 
text  of  these  plays  is  an  object  of  great  importance. 

On  a  revision  of  the  second  folio  printed  in  1632,  it  will 
be  found,  that  the  editor  of  that  book  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  our  poet's  phraseology  and  metre,  and  that 
various  alterations  were  made  by  him,  in  consequence 
of  that  ignorance,  which  render  his  edition  of  no  value 
whatsoever. 

[Several  pages  of  quotations  follow  which,  having  to 
do  with  textual  criticism  only,  are  here  omitted.] 

Various  other  instances  of  the  same  kind  might  be  pro- 
duced ;  but  that  I  may  not  weary  my  readers,  I  will  only 
add,  that  no  person  who  wishes  to  peruse  the  plays  of 
Shakespeare  should  ever  open  the  Second  Folio,  or  either 
of  the  subsequent  copies,  in  which  all  these  capricious 
alterations  were  adopted,  with  many  additional  errors 
and  innovations. 

It  may  seem  strange,  that  the  person  to  whom  the  care 
of  supervising  the  second  folio  was  consigned,  should 
have  been  thus  ignorant  of  our  poet's  language ;  but  it 
should  be  remembered,  that  in  the  beginning  of  the 
reign  of  Charles  the  First  many  words,  and  modes  of 
speech  began  to  be  disused,  which  had  been  common  in 
the  age  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  The  editor  of  the  second 
folio  was  probably  a  young  man,  perhaps  bom  in  the 


S46  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

year  1600.  That  Sir  William  D'Avenant,  who  was  born 
in  1605,  did  not  always  perfectly  understand  our 
author's  language,  is  manifest  from  various  alterations 
which  he  has  made  in  some  of  his  pieces.  The  successive 
"  Chronicles  of  English  History,"  which  were  compiled 
between  the  years  1540  and  1630,  afford  indubitable 
proofs  of  the  gradual  change  in  our  phraseology  during 
that  period.  Thus  a  narrative  which  Hall  exhibits  in 
what  now  appears  to  us  as  very  uncouth  and  ancient 
diction,  is  again  exhibited  by  Holinshed,  about  forty 
years  afterwards,  in  somewhat  a  less  rude  form ;  and  in 
the  chronicles  of  Speed  and  Baker  in  1611  and  1630, 
assumes  a  somewhat  more  polished  air.  In  the  second 
edition  of  "  Gascoigne's  Poems,"  printed  in  1587,  the 
editor  thought  it  necessary  to  explain  many  of  the 
words  by  placing  more  familiar  terms  in  the  margin, 
though  not  much  more  than  twenty  years  had  elapsed 
from  the  time  of  their  composition:  so  rapid  were  at 
that  time  the  changes  in  our  language. 

My  late  friend,  Mr.  Tyrwhitt,  a  man  of  such  candour, 
accuracy,  and  profound  learning  that  his  death  must  be 
considered  as  an  irreparable  loss  to  literature,  was  of 
opinion,  that  in  printing  these  plays  the  original  spell- 
ing should  be  adhered  to,  and  that  we  never  could  be 
sure  of  a  perfectly  faithful  edition,  unless  the  first  folio 
copy  was  made  the  standard,  and  actually  sent  to  the 
press,  with  such  corrections  as  the  editor  might  think 
proper.  By  others  it  was  suggested,  that  the  notes 
should  not  be  subjoined  to  the  text,  but  placed  at  the  end 
of  each  volume,  and  that  they  should  be  accompanied  by 
a  complete  Glossary.  The  former  scheme  (that  of 
sending  the  first  folio  to  the  press),  appeared  to  me 
liable  to  many  objections;  and  I  am  confident  that  if 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  247 

the  notes  were  detached  from  the  text,  many  readers 
would  remain  uninformed,  rather  than  undergo  the 
trouble  occasioned  by  perpetual  references  from  one 
part  of  a  volume  to  another. 

In  the  present  edition  I  have  endeavoured  to  obtain  all 
the  advantages  which  would  have  resulted  from  Mr. 
Tyrwhitt's  plan,  without  anj  of  Its  inconveniences. 
Having  often  experienced  the  fallaciousness  of  colla- 
tion by  the  eye,  I  determined,  after  I  had  adjusted  the 
text  In  the  best  manner  in  my  power,  to  have  every 
proof-sheet  of  my  work  read  aloud  to  me,  while  I  pe- 
rused the  first  folio,  for  those  plays  which  first  appear  In 
that  edition ;  and  for  all  those  which  had  been  previously 
printed,  the  first  quarto  copy,  excepting  only  in  the 
instances  of  "  The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,"  and 
"King  Henry  V.,"  which,  being  either  sketches  or 
imperfect  copies,  could  not  be  wholly  relied  on ;  and 
"King  Richard  IH."  of  the  earliest  edition  of  which 
tragedy  I  was  not  possessed.  I  had  at  the  same  time 
before  me  a  table  which  I  had  formed  of  the  variations 
between  the  quartos  and  the  folio.  By  this  laborious 
process  not  a  single  Innovation,  made  either  by  the 
editor  of  the  second  folio,  or  any  of  the  modern  editors, 
could  escape  me.  From  the  Index  to  all  the  words  and 
phrases  explained  or  illustrated  In  the  notes,  which  I 
have  subjoined  to  this  work,  every  use  may  be  derived 
which  the  most  copious  Glossary  could  afford;  while 
the  readers  who  are  less  Intent  on  philological  Inquiries, 
by  the  notes  being  appended  to  the  text,  are  relieved 
from  the  irksome  task  of  seeking  information  in  a 
different  volume  from  that  Immediately  before  them. 

If  it  be  asked,  what  has  been  the  fruit  of  all  this 
labour,   I   answer,  that  many   innovations,   transposi- 


248  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

tions,  &c.  have  been  detected  by  this  means;  many 
hundred  emendations  have  been  made,  and,  I  trust,  a 
genuine  text  has  been  formed.  Wherever  any  deviation 
is  made  from  the  authentick  copies,  except  in  the  case 
of  mere  obvious  errors  of  the  press,  the  reader  is 
apprized  by  a  note ;  and  every  emendation  that  has  been 
adopted,  is  ascribed  to  its  proper  author.  When  it  is 
considered  that  there  are  one  hundred  thousand  Hues  in 
these  plays,  and  that  it  often  was  necessary  to  consult 
six  or  seven  volumes,  in  order  to  ascertain  by  which  of 
the  preceding  editors,  from  the  time  of  the  publication 
of  the  second  folio,  each  emendation  was  made,  it  will 
easily  be  believed  that  this  was  not  effected  without 
much  trouble. 

Whenever  I  mention  the  old  copy  in  my  notes,  if  the 
play  be  one  originally  printed  in  quarto,  I  mean  the 
first  quarto  copy;  if  the  play  appeared  originally  in 
folio,  I  mean  the  first  folio ;  and  when  I  mention  the  old 
copies,  I  mean  the  first  quarto  and  first  folio,  which, 
when  that  expression  is  used,  it  may  be  concluded, 
concur  in  the  same  reading.  In  like  manner,  the  folio 
always  means  the  first  folio,  and  the  quarto,  the 
earliest  quarto,  with  the  exceptions  already  mentioned. 
In  general,  however,  the  date  of  each  quarto  is  given, 
when  it  is  cited.  Where  there  are  two  quarto  copies 
printed  in  the  same  year,  they  are  particularly  dis- 
tinguished, and  the  variations  noticed. 

The  two  great  duties  of  an  editor  are:  to  exhibit  the 
genuine  text  of  his  author,  and  to  explain  his  obscurities. 
Both  of  these  objects  have  been  so  constantly  before  my 
eyes,  that,  I  am  confident,  one  of  them  will  not  be  found 
to  have  been  neglected  for  the  other.  I  can,  with  per- 
fect truth  say,  with  Dr.  Johnson,  that  "  Not  a  single 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  249 

passage  in  the  whole  work  has  appeared  to  me  obscure, 
which  I  have  not  endeavoured  to  illustrate."  I  have 
examined  the  notes  of  all  the  editors,  and  my  own 
former  remarks,  with  equal  rigour;  and  have  endeav- 
oured as  much  as  possible  to  avoid  all  controversy, 
having  constantly  had  in  view  a  philanthropick  obser- 
vation made  by  the  editor  above  mentioned :  "  I  know  not 
(says  that  excellent  writer),  why  our  editors  should, 
with  such  implacable  anger,  persecute  their  prede- 
cessors. 01  v£xpo\  fi^  Xaxeaivj  the  dead,  it  is  true,  can 
make  no  resistance,  they  may  be  attacked  with  great 
security;  but  since  they  can  neither  feel  nor  mend,  the 
safety  of  mauling  them  seems  greater  than  the  pleasure : 
nor,  perhaps,  would  it  be  much  misbeseem  us  to  remem- 
ber, amidst  our  triumphs  over  the  nonsensical  and  the 
senseless,  that  we  likewise  are  men;  that  dehemur 
morti,  and,  as  Swift  observed  to  Burnet,  shall  soon  be 
among  the  dead  ourselves." 

I  have,  in  general,  given  the  true  explication  of  a 
passage,  by  whomsoever  made,  without  loading  the 
page  with  the  preceding  unsuccessful  attempts  at 
elucidation,  and  by  this  means,  have  obtained  room 
for  much  additional  illustration:  for,  as  on  the  one 
hand,  I  trust  very  few  superfluous  or  unnecessary  anno- 
tations have  been  admitted,  so  on  the  other,  I  believe, 
that  not  a  single  valuable  explication  of  any  obscure 
passage  in  these  plays  has  ever  appeared,  which  will  not 
be  found  in  the  following  volumes. 

The  admirers  of  this  poet  will,  I  trust,  not  merely 
pardon  the  great  accession  of  new  notes  in  the  present 
edition,  but  examine  them  with  some  degree  of 
pleasure.  An  idle  notion  has  been  propagated,  that 
Shakespeare  has  been  buried  under  his  commentators; 


250  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

and  it  has  again  and  again  been  repeated  by  the  taste- 
less and  the  dull,  "  that  notes,  though  often  necessary, 
are  necessary  evils."  There  is  no  person,  I  believe,  who 
has  a  higher  respect  for  the  authority  of  Dr.  Johnson 
than  I  have ;  but  he  has  been  misunderstood,  or  misrep- 
resented, as  if  these  words  contained  a  general  caution 
to  all  the  readers  of  this  poet.  Dr.  Johnson,  in  the  part 
of  his  preface  here  alluded  to,  is  addressing  the  young 
reader,  to  whom  Shakespeare  is  new;  and  him  he  very 
judiciously  counsels  to  "  read  every  play  from  the  first 
scene  to  the  last,  with  utter  negligence  of  all  his  com- 
mentators. Let  him  read  on,  through  brightness  and 
obscurity,  through  integrity  and  corruption;  let  him 
preserve  his  comprehension  of  the  dialogue,  and  his 
interest  in  the  fable."  But  to  much  the  greater  and 
more  enlightened  part  of  his  readers,  (for  how  few  are 
there  comparatively  to  whom  Shakespeare  is  new?)  he 
gives  a  very  different  advice:  Let  them  to  whom  the 
pleasures  of  novelty  have  ceased,  "  attempt  exactness, 
and  read  the  commentators." 

During  the  era  of  conjectural  criticism  and  capricious 
innovation,  notes  were  indeed  evils ;  while  one  page  was 
covered  with  ingenious  sophistry  in  support  of  some 
idle  conjecture,  and  another  was  wasted  in  its  over- 
throw, or  in  erecting  a  new  fabrick  equally  unsubstan- 
tial as  the  former.  But  this  era  is  now  happily  past 
away;  and  conjecture  and  emendation  have  given  place 
to  rational  explanation.  We  shall  never,  I  hope,  again 
be  told,  that  "  as  the  best  guesser  was  the  best  diviner,  so 
he  may  be  said  in  some  measure  to  be  the  best  editor  of 
Shakespeare."  ^  Let  me  not,  however,  be  supposed  an 
enemy  to  all  conjectural  emendation;  sometimes  un- 
*  Newton's  Preface  to  his  edition  of  Milton. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S   PLAYS  251 

doubtedly,  we  must  have  recourse  to  it;  but,  like  the 
machinery  of  the  ancient  drama,  let  it  not  be  resorted  to 
except  in  cases  of  difficulty;  nisi  dignus  vindici  nodus, 
**  I  wish  (says  Dr.  Johnson)  we  all  conjectured  less, 
and  explained  more."  When  our  poet's  entire  library 
shall  have  been  discovered,  and  the  fables  of  all  his  plays 
traced  to  their  original  source,  when  every  temporary 
allusion  shall  have  been  pointed  out,  and  every  obscurity 
elucidated,  then,  and  not  till  then,  let  the  accumulation 
of  notes  be  complained  of.  I  scarcely  remember  ever 
to  have  looked  into  a  book  of  the  age  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  in  which  I  did  not  find  somewhat  that  tended 
to  throw  a  light  on  these  plays.  While  our  object  is,  te 
support  and  establish  what  the  poet  wrote,  to  illustrate 
his  phraseology  by  comparing  it  with  that  of  his  con- 
temporaries, and  to  explain  his  fugitive  allusions  to 
customs  long  since  disused  and  forgotten,  while  this 
object  is  kept  steadily  in  view,  if  even  every  line  of  his 
plays  were  accompanied  with  a  comment,  every  intelli- 
gent reader  would  be  indebted  to  the  industry  of  him 
who  produced  it.  Such  uniformly  has  been  the  object 
of  the  notes  now  presented  to  the  publick.  Let  us,  then 
hear  no  more  of  this  barbarous  jargon  concerning 
Shakespeare's  having  been  elucidated  into  obscurity, 
and  buried  under  the  load  of  his  commentators.  Dryden 
is  said  to  have  regretted  the  success  of  his  own  instruc- 
tions, and  to  have  lamented  that  at  length,  in  conse- 
quence of  his  critical  prefaces,  the  town  had  become  too 
skilful  to  be  easily  satisfied.  The  same  observation 
may  be  made  with  respect  to  many  of  these  objectors,  to 
whom  the  meaning  of  some  of  our  poet's  most  difficult 
passages  is  now  become  so  familiar,  that  they  fancy  they 
originally   understood   them   "  Without    a    prompter," 


^52  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

and  with  great  gravity  exclaim  against  the  unnecessary 
illustrations  furnished  by  his  Editors:  nor  ought  we 
much  to  wonder  at  this;  for  our  poet  himself  has 
told  us, 

"...  'tis  a  common  proof. 
That  lowliness  is  young  ambition's  ladder, 
Whereto  the  climber  upward  turns  his  face; 
But  when  he  once  attains  the  upmost  round, 
He  then  unto  the  ladder  turns  his  back; 
Looks  in  the  clouds  .  .  ." 

I  have  constantly  made  it  a  rule  in  revising  the  notes 
of  former  editors,  to  compare  such  passages  as  they 
have  cited  from  any  author,  with  the  book  from  which 
the  extract  was  taken,  if  I  could  procure  it;  by  which 
some  inaccuracies  have  been  rectified.  The  incorrect 
extract  made  by  Dr.  Warburton  from  Saviola's  treatise 
on  "  Honour  and  Honourable  Quarrels,"  to  illustrate 
a  passage  in  "  As  You  Like  It,"  fully  proves  the 
propriety  of  such  a  collation. 

At  the  end  of  the  tenth  volume  I  have  added  an 
Appendix,  containing  corrections,  and  supplementary 
observations,  made  too  late  to  be  annexed  to  the  plays 
to  which  they  belong.  Some  object  to  an  Appendix; 
but  in  my  opinion,  with  very  little  reason.  No  book 
can  be  the  worse  for  such  a  supplement;  since  the 
reader,  if  such  be  his  caprice,  need  not  examine  it.  If 
the  objector  means  that  he  wishes  that  all  the  informa- 
tion contained  in  an  appendix,  were  properly  disposed 
in  the  preceding  volumes,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that 
such  an  arrangement  would  be  extremely  desirable :  but 
as  well  might  be  required  from  the  elephant  the  spright- 
liness  and  agility  of  the  squirrel,  or  from  the  squirrel 
the  wisdom  and  strength  of  the  elephant,  as  expect  that 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  253 

■  an  editor's  latest  thoughts  suggested  by  discursive 
reading  while  the  sheets  that  compose  his  volumes  were 
passing  through  the  press,  should  form  a  part  of  his 
original  work;  that  information  acquired  too  late  to 
be  employed  in  its  proper  place,  should  yet  be  found 
there. 

That  the  very  few  stage-directions  which  the  old  copies 
exhibit,  were  not  taken  from  our  author's  manuscripts, 
but  furnished  by  the  players,  is  proved  by  one  in 
*'  Macbeth,"  Act  IV.,  sc.  1,  where  "  A  show  of  eight 
kings  "  is  directed,  "  and  Banquo  last,  with  a  glass  in 
his  hand  "  ;  though  from  the  very  words  which  the  poet 
has  written  for  Macbeth,  it  is  manifest  that  the  glass 
ought  to  be  borne  by  the  eighth  king,  and  not  by 
Banquo,  All  the  stage  directions,  therefore,  through- 
out this  work,  I  have  considered  as  wholly  in  my  power, 
and  have  regulated  them  in  the  best  manner  I  could.  The 
reader  will  also,  I  think,  be  pleased  to  find  the  place  in 
which  every  scene  is  supposed  to  pass,  precisely  ascer- 
tained; a  species  of  information,  for  which,  though  it 
often  throws  light  on  the  dialogue,  we  look  in  vain  in 
the  ancient  copies,  and  which  has  been  too  much  neg- 
lected by  the  modem  editors. 

The  play  of  "  Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre,"  which  is 
now  once  more  restored  to  our  author,  I  originally 
intended  to  have  subjoined,  with  "  Titus  Andronicus,'* 
to  the  tenth  volume;  but,  to  preserve  an  equality  of 
size  in  my  volumes,  have  been  obliged  to  give  it  a  dif- 
ferent place.  The  hand  of  Shakespeare  being  indubita- 
bly found  in  that  piece,  it  will,  I  doubt  not,  be  consid- 
ered as  a  valuable  accession;  and  it  is  of  little 
consequence  where  it  appears. 
It  has  long  been  thought,  that  "  Titus  Andronicus  '* 


^64  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

was  not  written  originally  by  Shakespeare;  about 
seventy  years  after  his  death,  Ravenscroft  having  men- 
tioned that  he  had  been  "  told  by  some  anciently  con- 
versant with  the  stage,  that  our  poet  only  gave  some 
master-touches  to  one  or  two  of  the  principal  parts  or 
characters."  The  very  curious  papers  lately  discovered 
in  Dulwich  College,  from  which  large  extracts  are  given 
at  the  end  of  the  "  History  of  the  Stage,"  prove,  what 
I  long  since  suspected,  that  this  play,  and  the  First 
Part  of  "  King  Henry  VI."  were  in  possession  of  the 
scene  when  Shakespeare  began  to  write  for  the  stage; 
and  the  same  manuscripts  show,  that  it  was  then  very 
common  for  a  dramatick  poet  to  alter  and  amend 
the  work  of  a  preceding  writer.  The  question,  there- 
fore, is  now  decisively  settled;  and  undoubtedly  some 
additions  were  made  to  both  these  pieces  by  Shake- 
speare. It  is  observable  that  the  second  scene  of  the 
third  act  of  "  Titus  Andronicus,"  is  not  found  in  the 
quarto  copy  printed  in  1611.  It  is,  therefore,  highly 
probable,  that  this  scene  was  added  by  our  author ;  and 
his  hand  may  be  traced  in  the  preceding  act,  as  well  as 
in  a  few  other  places.  The  additions  which  he  made  to 
"  Pericles "  are  much  more  numerous,  and  therefore 
more  strongly  entitled  it  to  a  place  among  the  dra- 
matick pieces  which  he  has  adorned  by  his  pen. 

With  respect  to  the  other  contested  plays,  "  Sir  John 
Oldcastle,"  "  The  London  Prodigal,"  &c.,  which  have 
now  for  near  two  centuries  been  falsely  ascribed  to  our 
author,  the  manuscripts  above-mentioned  completely 
clear  him  from  that  imputation;  and  prove  that  while 
his  great  modesty  made  him  set  but  little  value  on  his 
own  inimitable  productions,  he  could  patiently  endure 
to  have  the  miserable  trash  of  other  writers  publickly 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  255 

imputed  to  him,  without  taking  any  measure  to  vindi- 
cate his  fame.  "  Sir  John  Oldcastle,"  we  find  from 
indubitable  evidence,  though  ascribed  in  the  title-page  to 
"William  Shakspeare,"  and  printed  in  the  year  1600, 
when  his  fame  was  in  its  meridian,  was  the  joint-produc- 
tion of  four  other  poets;  Michael  Drayton,  Anthony 
Mundy,  Richard  Hathwaye,  and  Robert  Wilson. 

In  the  Dissertation  annexed  to  the  three  parts  of 
"  King  Henry  the  Sixth,"  I  have  discussed  at  large  the 
question  concerning  their  authenticity;  and  have  as- 
signed my  reasons  for  thinking  that  the  second  and 
third  of  those  plays  were  formed  by  Shakespeare,  on 
two  elder  dramas  now  extant.  Any  disqaisition,  there- 
fore, concerning  these  controverted  pieces  is  here 
unnecessary. 

Some  years  ago  I  published  a  short  essay  on  the 
economy  and  usages  of  our  old  theatres.  The  "Histor- 
ical Account  of  the  English  Stage,"  which  has  been 
formed  on  that  essay,  has  swelled  to  such  a  size,  in  con- 
sequence of  various  researches  since  made,  and  a  great 
accession  of  very  valuable  materials,  that  it  is  become 
almost  a  new  work.  Of  these,  the  most  important  are 
the  curious  papers  which  have  been  discovered  at 
Dulwich,  and  the  very  valuable  "  OfBce-book  of  Sir 
Henry  Herbert,  Master  of  the  Revels  to  King  James  and 
King  Charles  the  First,"  which  have  contributed  to 
throw  much  light  on  our  dramatick  history,  and  fur- 
nished some  singular  anecdotes  of  the  poets  of  those 
times. 

Twelve  years  have  elapsed  since  the  essay  on  the  order 
of  time  in  which  the  plays  of  Shakespeare  were  written, 
first  appeared.  A  re-examination  of  these  plays  since 
that  time  has  furnished  me  with  several  particulars  in 


256  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

confirmation  of  which  I  had  formerly  suggested  on  this 
subject.  On  a  careful  revisal  of  that  essay,  which,  I 
hope,  is  improved  as  well  as  considerably  enlarged,  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  observing  that  I  had  found  reason 
to  attribute  but  two  plays-  to  an  era  widely  distant  from 
that  to  which  they  had  been  originally  ascribed ;  and  to 
make  only  a  minute  change  in  the  arrangement  of  a 
few  others.  Some  information,  however,  which  has  been 
obtained  since  that  essay  was  printed  in  its  present 
form,  inclines  me  to  think,  that  one  of  the  two  plays 
which  I  allude  to,  "The  Winter's  Tale,"  was  a  still 
later  production  than  I  have  supposed ;  for  I  now  have 
good  reason  to  believe,  that  it  was  first  exhibited  in  the 
year  1613 ;  and  that  consequently  it  must  have  been  one 
of  our  poet's  latest  works. 

Though  above  a  century  and  a  half  has  elapsed  since 
the  death  of  Shakespeare,  it  is  somewhat  extraordinary, 
(as  I  observed  on  a  former  occasion),  that  none  of  his 
various  editors  should  have  attempted  to  separate  his 
genuine  poetical  compositions  from  the  spurious  per- 
formances with  which  they  have  been  long  intermixed; 
or  have  taken  the  trouble  to  compare  them  with  the 
earliest  and  most  authentick  copies.  Shortly  after  his 
death,  ^  a  very  Incorrect  impression  of  his  poems  was 
issued  out,  which  in  every  subsequent  edition,  previous 
to  the  year  1780,  was  implicitly  followed.  They  have 
been  carefully  revised,  and  with  many  additional  illus- 
trations, are  now  a  second  time  faithfully  printed  from 
the  original  copies,  excepting  only  "  Venus  and 
Adonis,"  of  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  procure  the 
first  Impression.  The  second  edition,  printed  in  1596, 
was  obligingly  transmitted  to  me  by  the  late  Reverend 

« 1640. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  257 

Thomas  Warton,  of  whose  friendly  and  valuable  cor- 
respondence I  was  deprived  by  death,  when  these  vol- 
umes were  almost  ready  to  be  issued  from  the  press.  It 
is  painful  to  recollect  how  many  of  (I  had  almost  said) 
my  coadjutors  have  died  since  the  present  work  was 
begun :  the  elegant  scholar,  and  ingenious  writer,  whom 
I  have  just  mentioned;  Dr.  Johnson,  and  Mr.  Tyrwhitt: 
men,  from  whose  approbation  of  my  labours  I  had 
promised  myself  much  pleasure,  and  whose  stamp  could 
give  a  value  and  currency  to  any  work. 

With  the  materials  which  I  have  been  so  fortunate  as 
to  obtain,  relative  to  our  poet,  his  kindred,  and 
friends,  it  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  have  formed 
a  new  Life  of  Shakespeare,  less  meagre  and  imperfect 
than  that  left  us  by  Mr.  Rowe:  but  the  information 
which  I  have  procured  having  been  obtained  at  very 
different  times,  it  is  necessarily  dispersed,  partly  in  the 
copious  notes  subjoined  to  "  Rowe's  Life,"  and  partly 
in  the  "  Historical  Account  of  Our  Old  Actors."  At 
some  future  time  I  hope  to  weave  the  whole  into  one 
uniform  and  connected  narrative. 

My  inquiries  having  been  carried  on  almost  to  the  very 
moment  of  publication,  some  circumstances  relative  to 
our  poet  were  obtained  too  late  to  be  introduced  into 
any  part  of  the  present  work.  Of  these  due  use  will  be 
made  hereafter. 

The  prefaces  of  Theobald,  Hanmer,  and  Warburton, 
I  have  not  retained,  because  they  appeared  to  me  to 
throw  no  light  on  our  author  or  his  works:  the  room 
which  they  would  have  taken  up,  will,  I  trust  be  found 
occupied  by  more  valuable  matter. 

As  some  of  the  preceding  editors  have  justly  been 
condemned  for  innovation,  so  perhaps,  (for  of  objec- 


^68  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

tions  there  is  no  end),  I  may  be  censured  for  too  strict 
an  adherence  to  the  ancient  copies.  I  have  constantly 
had  in  view  the  Roman  sentiment  adopted  by  Dr. 
Johnson,  that  "  it  is  more  honourable  to  save  a  citizen 
than  to  destroy  an  enemy,"  and,  like  him,  "  have  been 
more  careful  to  protect  than  to  attack."  "  I  do  not 
wish  the  reader  to  forget,  (says  the  same  writer),  that 
the  most  commodious  (and  he  might  have  added,  the 
most  forcible  and  elegant),  is  not  always  the  true  read- 
ing." On  this  principle  I  have  uniformly  proceeded, 
having  resolved  never  to  deviate  from  the  authentick 
copies,  merely  because  the  phraseology  was  harsh  or 
uncommon.  Many  passages,  which  have  heretofore 
been  considered  as  corrupt,  and  are  now  supported  by 
the  usage  of  contemporary  writers,  fully  prove  the  pro- 
priety of  this  caution. 

The  rage  for  innovation  till  within  these  last  thirty 
years  was  so  great,  that  many  words  were  dismissed 
from  our  poet's  text,  which  in  his  time  were  current  in 
every  mouth.  In  all  the  editions  since  that  of  Mr. 
Rowe,  in  the  Second  Part  of  "  King  Henry  IV."  the 
word  channel  has  been  rejected,  and  kennel  substituted 
in  its  room,  though  the  former  term  was  commonly 
employed  in  the  same  sense  in  the  time  of  our  author; 
and  the  learned  Bishop  of  Worcester  has  strenuously 
endeavoured  to  prove  that  in  "  Cymbeline  "  the  poet 
wrote — ^not  shakes,  but  shuts  or  checks,  "  all  our  buds 
from  growing";  though  the  authenticity  of  the  orig- 
inal reading  is  established  beyond  all  controversy  by 
two  other  passages  of  Shakespeare.  Very  soon,  indeed, 
after  his  death,  this  rage  for  innovation  seems  to  have 
seized  his  editors ;  for  in  the  year  1616  an  edition  of  his 
"  Rape  of  Lucrece  "  was  published,  which  was  said  to 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  259 

be  newly  revised  and  corrected;  but  in  which,  in  fact, 
several  arbitrary  changes  were  made,  and  the  ancient 
diction  rejected  for  one  somewhat  more  modern.  Even 
in  the  first  complete  collection  of  his  plays  published 
in  1623,  some  changes  were  undoubtedly  made  from 
ignorance  of  his  meaning  and  phraseology.  They  had, 
I  suppose,  been  made  in  the  playhouse  copies  after  his 
retirement  from  the  theatre.  Thus  in  "  Othello," 
Brahantio  is  made  to  call  to  his  domesticks  to  raise 
"  some  special  officers  of  might,"  instead  of  "  officers  of 
night  " ;  and  the  phrase  "  of  all  loves,"  in  the  same 
play,  not  being  understood,  "  for  loves  sake,"  was  sub- 
stituted in  its  room.  So,  in  "  Hamlet,"  we  have  ere 
ever  for  or  ever,  and  rites  instead  of  the  more  ancient 
word,  crants.  In  "  King  Lear,"  Act  I.,  sc.  1,  the  sub- 
stitution of — "  Goes  thy  heart  with  this  ?  "  instead  of 
— "  Goes  this  with  thy  heart  ?  "  without  doubt  arose 
from  the  same  cause.  In  the  plays  of  which  we  have  no 
quarto  copies,  we  may  be  sure  that  similar  innovations 
were  made,  though  we  have  now  no  certain  means  of 
detecting  them. 

After  what  has  been  proved  concerning  the  sophistica- 
tions and  corruptions  of  the  Second  Folio,  we  cannot 
be  surprized  that  when  these  plays  were  republished  by 
Mr.  Rowe  in  the  beginning  of  this  century  from  a  later 
folio,  in  which  the  interpolations  of  the  former  were  all 
preserved,  and  many  new  errors  added,  almost  every 
page  of  his  work  was  disfigured  by  accumulated  cor- 
ruptions. In  Mr.  Pope's  edition  our  author  was  not 
less  misrepresented ;  for  though  by  examining  the  oldest 
copies  he  detected  some  errors,  by  his  numerous  fanciful 
alterations  the  poet  was  so  completely  modernized,  that 
I  am  confident,  that  had  he  "  re-visited  the  glimpses  of 


260  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

the  moon,"  he  would  not  have  understood  his  own  works. 
From  the  quartos  Indeed  a  few  valuable  restorations 
were  made;  but  all  the  advantage  that  was  thus 
obtained,  was  outweighed  by  arbitrary  changes, 
transpositions,  and  interpolations. 

The  readers  of  Shakespeare  being  disgusted  with  the 
liberties  taken  by  Mr.  Pope,  the  subsequent  edition  of 
Theobald  was  justly  preferred;  because  he  professed  to 
adhere  to  the  ancient  copies  more  strictly  than  his  com- 
petitor, and  illustrated  a  few  passages  by  extracts  from 
the  writers  of  our  poet's  age.  That  his  work  should  at 
this  day  be  considered  of  any  value,  only  shows  how 
long  impressions  will  remain,  when  they  are  once  made; 
for  Theobald,  though  not  so  great  an  innovator  as 
Pope,  was  yet  a  considerable  innovator ;  and  his  edition 
being  printed  from  that  of  his  immediate  predecessor, 
while  a  few  arbitrary  changes  made  by  Pope  were 
detected,  innumerable  sophistications  were  silently 
adopted.  His  knowledge  of  the  contemporary  authors 
was  so  scanty,  that  all  the  illustration  of  that  kind  dis- 
persed throughout  his  volumes,  has  been  exceeded  by 
the  researches  which  have  since  been  made  for  the 
purpose  of  elucidating  a  single  play. 

Of  Sir  Thomas  Hanmer  it  is  only  necessary  to  say, 
that  he  adopted  almost  all  the  innovations  of  Pope, 
adding  to  them  whatever  caprice  dictated. 

To  him  succeeded  Dr.  Warburton,  a  critick,  who  (as 
hath  been  said  of  Salmasius)  seems  to  have  erected  his 
throne  on  a  heap  of  stones,  that  he  might  have  them  at 
hand  to  throw  at  the  heads  of  all  those  who  passed  by. 
His  unbounded  licence  in  substituting  his  own  chimeri- 
cal conceits  in  the  place  of  the  author's  genuine  text, 
has  been  so  fully  shown  by  his  revisers,  that  I  suppose 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  £61 

no  critical  reader  will  ever  again  open  his  volumes.  An 
hundred  strappadoes,  according  to  an  Italian  comick 
writer,  would  not  have  induced  Petrarch,  were  he  living, 
to  subscribe  to  the  meaning  which  certain  commentators 
after  his  death  had  by  their  glosses  extorted  from  his 
works.  It  is  a  curious  speculation  to  consider  how 
many  thousand  would  have  been  requisite  for  this  editor 
to  have  inflicted  on  our  great  dramatick  poet  for  the 
same  purpose.  The  defence  which  has  been  made  for 
Dr.  Warburton  on  this  subject,  by  some  of  his  friends, 
is  singular.  "  He  well  knew,"  it  has  been  said,  "  that 
much  the  greater  part  of  his  notes  do  not  throw  any 
light  on  the  poet  of  whose  works  he  undertook  the 
revision,  and  that  he  frequently  imputed  to  Shakespeare 
a  meaning  of  which  he  never  thought;  but  the  editor's 
great  object  was  to  display  his  own  learning,  not  to 
illustrate  his  author,  and  this  end  he  obtained;  for  in 
spite  of  all  the  clamour  against  him,  his  work  added  to 
his  reputation  as  a  scholar."  Be  it  so  then ;  but  let  none 
of  his  admirers  ever  dare  to  unite  his  name  with  that  of 
Shakespeare;  and  let  us  at  least  be  allowed  to  wonder, 
that  the  learned  editor  should  have  had  so  little  respect 
for  the  greatest  poet  that  has  appeared  since  the  days 
of  Homer,  as  to  use  a  commentary  on  his  works  merely 
as  "  a  stalking-horse,  under  the  presentation  of  which 
he  might  shoot  his  wit." 

At  length  the  task  of  revising  these  plays  was  under- 
taken by  one,  whose  extraordinary  powers  of  mind,  as 
they  rendered  him  the  admiration  of  his  contempor- 
aries, will  transmit  his  name  to  posterity  as  the 
brightest  ornament  of  the  eighteenth  century;  and  will 
transmit  it  without  competition,  if  we  except  a  great 
orator,  philosopher,  and  statesman,  now  living,  ^  whose 
•Edmund  Burke. 


£62  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

talents  and  virtues  are  an  honour  to  human  nature.  In 
1765,  Dr.  Johnson's  edition,  which  had  long  been 
impatiently  expected,  was  given  to  the  publick.  His 
admirable  preface,  (perhaps  the  finest  composition  in 
our  language),  his  happy,  and  in  general  just,  char- 
acters of  these  plays,  his  refutation  of  the  false  glosses 
of  Theobald  and  Warburton,  and  his  numerous  explica- 
tions of  involved  and  difficult  passages,  are  too  well 
known  to  be  here  enlarged  upon ;  and  therefore,  I  shall 
only  add,  that  his  vigorous  and  comprehensive  under- 
standing threw  more  light  on  his  author  than  all  his 
predecessors  had  done. 

In  one  observation,  however,  concerning  our  poet,  I  do 
not  entirely  concur  with  him.  "  It  is  not  (he  remarks ) 
very  grateful  to  consider  how  little  the  succession  of 
editors  has  added  to  this  author's  power  of  pleasing. 
He  was  read,  admired,  studied  and  imitated,  while  he 
was  yet  deformed  with  all  the  improprieties  which 
ignorance  and  neglect  could  accumulate  upon  him." 

He  certainly  was  read,  admired,  studied,  and  imitated, 

at  the  period  mentioned;  but  surely  not  in  the  same 

degree  as  at  present.     The  succession  of  editors  has 

effected  this;  it  has  made  him  understood;  it  has  made 

him  popular;  it  has  shown  every  one  who  is  capable  of 

reading,  how  much  superior  he  is  not  only  to  Jonson 

and  Fletcher,  whom  the  bad  taste  of  the  last  age  from 

the  time  of  the  Restoration  to  the  end  of  the  century 

set    above   him,    but    to   all    the  dramatick   poets    of 

antiquity : 

"  .  .  .  jam  monte  potitus. 
Bidet   anhelantem   dura   ad   vestigia   turbam." 

Every  author  who  pleases  must  surely  please  more  as 
he  is  more  understood,  and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  263 

Shakespeare  is  now  infinitely  better  understood  than  he 
was  in  the  last  century.  To  say  nothing  of  the  people 
at  large,  it  is  clear  that  Dryden  himself,  though  a  great 
admirer  of  our  poet,  and  D'Avenant,  though  he  wrote 
for  the  stage  in  the  year  1627,  did  not  always  under- 
stand him.  The  very  books  which  are  necessary  to  our 
author's  illustration,  were  of  so  little  account  in  their 
time,  that  what  now  we  can  scarce  procure  at  any  price, 
was  then  the  furniture  of  the  nursery  or  stall.  In  fifty 
years  after  our  poet's  death  Dryden  mentions  that  he 
was  then  become  "  a  little  obsolete."  In  the  beginning 
of  the  present  century  Lord  Shaftesbury  complains  of 
his  "rude  unpolished  stile,  and  his  ANTIQUATED 
phrase  and  wit " ;  and  not  long  afterwards  Gildon 
informs  us  that  he  had  been  rejected  from  some  modern 
collections  of  poetry  on  account  of  his  obsolete 
language.  Whence  could  these  representations  have 
proceeded,  but  because  our  poet,  not  being  diligently 
studied,  not  being  compared  with  the  contemporary 
writers  was  not  understood.''  If  he  had  been  "  read, 
admired,  studied,  and  imitated,"  in  the  same  degree  as 
he  is  now,  the  enthusiasm  of  some  one  or  other  of  his 
admirers  in  the  last  age  would  have  induced  him  to 
make  some  enquiries  concerning  the  history  of  his 
theatrical  career,  and  the  anecdotes  of  his  private 
life. 

But  no  such  person  was  found ;  no  anxiety  in  the  pub- 
lick  sought  out  any  particulars  concerning  him  after 
the  Restoration  (if  we  except  the  few  which  were  col- 
lected by  Mr.  Aubrey),  though  at  that  time  the  history 
of  his  life  must  have  been  known  to  many ;  for  his  sister, 
Joan  Hart,  who  must  have  known  much  of  his  early 
years,  did  not  die  till  1646:  his  favourite  daughter, 


264  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

Mrs.  Hall,  lived  till  1649;  and  his  second  daughter, 
Judith,  was  living  at  Stratford-upon-Avon,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  year  1662.  His  grand-daughter. 
Lady  Barnard,  did  not  die  till  1670.  Mr.  Thomas 
Combe,  to  whom  Shakespeare  bequeathed  his  sword,  sur- 
vived our  poet  above  forty  years,  having  died  at  Strat- 
ford in  1657.  His  elder  brother,  William  Combe,  lived 
till  1667.  Sir  Richard  Bishop,  who  was  bom  in  1585, 
lived  at  Bridgetown  near  Stratford  till  1672:  and  his 
son.  Sir  William  Bishop,  who  was  born  in  1626,  died 
there  in  1700.  From  all  these  persons  without  doubt 
many  circumstances  relative  to  Shakespeare  might  have 
been  obtained;  but  that  was  an  age  as  deficient  in 
literary  curiosity  as  in  taste. 

It  was  remarkable  that  in  a  century  after  our  poet's 
death,  &\e  editions  only  of  his  plays  were  published; 
which  probably  consisted  of  not  more  than  three 
thousand  copies.  During  the  same  period  three  editions 
of  the  plays  of  Fletcher,  and  four  of  those  of  Jonson 
had  appeared.  On  the  other  hand,  from  the  year  1716 
to  the  present  time,  that  is,  in  seventy-four  years,  but 
two  editions  of  the  former  writer,  and  one  of  the  latter, 
have  been  issued  from  the  press ;  while  about  thirty 
thousand  copies  of  Shakespeare  have  been  dispersed 
through  England.  That  nearly  as  many  editions  of 
the  works  of  Jonson  as  of  Shakespeare  should  have 
been  demanded  in  the  last  century,  will  not  appear  sur- 
prising, when  we  recollect  what  Dryden  has  related 
soon  after  the  Restoration :  that  "  others  were  then 
generally  preferred  before  him."  By  others  Jonson 
and  Fletcher  were  meant.  To  attempt  to  show  to  the 
readers  of  the  present  day  the  absurdity  of  such  a 
preference,  would  be  an  insult  to  their  understandings. 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  265 

When  we  endeavour  to  trace  any  thing  like  a  ground 
for  this  preposterous  taste,  we  are  told  of  Fletcher's 
ease,  and  Jonson's  learning.  Of  how  little  use  his 
learning  was  to  him,  an  ingenious  writer  of  our  own 
time  has  shown  with  that  vigour  and  animation  for 
which  he  was  distinguished.  "Jonson,  in  the  serious 
drama,  is  as  much  an  imitator  as  Shakespeare  is  an 
original.  He  was  very  learned,  as  Sampson  was  very 
strong,  to  his  own  hurt.  Blind  to  the  nature  of  tragedy, 
he  pulled  down  all  antiquity  on  his  head,  and  buried 
himself  under  it.  We  see  nothing  of  Jonson,  nor  indeed 
of  his  admired  (but  also  murdered),  ancients;  for  what 
shone  in  the  historian  is  a  cloud  on  the  poet,  and 
*  Catiline '  might  have  been  a  good  play,  if  Sallust  had 
never  written. 

"  Who  knows  whether  Shakespeare  might  not  have 
thought  less,  if  he  had  read  more.?  Who  knows  if  he 
might  not  have  laboured  under  the  load  of  Jonson's 
learning,  as  Enceladus  under  ^tna.?  His  mighty 
genius,  indeed,  through  the  most  mountainous  oppres- 
sion would  have  breathed  out  some  of  his  inextinguisha- 
ble fire;  yet  possibly  he  might  not  have  risen  up  into 
that  giant,  that  much  more  than  common  man,  at 
which  we  now  gaze  with  amazement  and  delight.  Per- 
haps he  was  as  learned  as  his  dramatick  province 
required;  for  whatever  other  learning  he  wanted,  he 
was  master  of  two  books  unknown  to  many  of  the  pro- 
foundly read,  though  books  which  the  last  conflagra- 
tion alone  can  destroy;  the  book  of  nature,  and  that 
of  man."  * 

To  this  and  the  other  encomiums  on  our  great  poet 
which  will  be  found  in  the  following  pages,  I  shall  not 

•  "  Conjectures  on  Original  Composition,'*  by  Dr.  Edward  Young. 


^66  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

attempt     to     make     any     addition.     He     has     justly 
observed,  that 

"To  guard  a  title  that  was  rich  before. 
To  gild  refined  gold,  or  paint  the  lily. 
To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet, 
To  smooth  the  ice,  or  add  another  hue 
Unto  the  rainbow,  or  with  taper-light 
To  seek  the  beauteous  eye  of  heaven  to  garnish. 
Is  wasteful  and  ridiculous  excess." 

Let  me,  however,  be  permitted  to  remark,  that  beside 
all  his  other  transcendent  merits,  he  was  the  great 
refiner  and  polisher  of  our  language.  His  compound 
epithets,  his  bold  metaphors,  the  energy  of  his  expres- 
sions, the  harmony  of  his  numbers,  all  these  render  the 
language  of  Shakespeare  one  of  his  principal  beauties. 
Unfortunately  none  of  his  letters,  or  other  prose  com- 
positions, not  in  a  dramatick  form,  have  reached  pos- 
terity ;  but  if  any  of  them  ever  shall  be  discovered,  they 
will,  I  am  confident,  exhibit  the  same  perspicuity,  the 
same  cadence,  the  same  elegance  and  vigour,  which  we 
find  in  his  plays.  "  Words  and  phrases,"  says  Dryden, 
"must  of  necessity  receive  a  change  in  succeeding 
ages;  but  it  is  almost  a  miracle,  that  much  of  his 
language  remains  so  pure;  and  that  he  who  began 
dramatick  poetry  amongst  us,  untaught  by  any,  and, 
as  Ben  Jonson  teUs  us,  without  learning,  should  by  the 
force  of  his  own  genius  perform  so  much,  that  in  a 
manner  he  has  left  no  praise  for  any  who  come  after 
him." 

In  these  prefatory  observations  my  principal  object 
was,  to  ascertain  the  true  state  and  respective  value  of 
the  ancient  copies,  and  to  mark  out  the  course  which 
has  been  pursued  in  the  editions  now  offered  to  the 


TO    SHAKESPEARE'S    PLAYS  267 

publick.  It  only  remains,  that  I  should  return  my  very 
sincere  acknowledgments  to  those  gentlemen,  to  whose 
good  offices  I  have  been  indebted  in  the  progress  of  my 
work.  My  thanks  are  particularly  due  to  Francis 
Ingram,  of  Ribbisford  in  Worcestershire,  Esq.,  for 
the  very  valuable  "  Office-book  of  Sir  Henry  Herbert," 
and  several  other  curious  papers,  which  formerly 
belonged  to  that  gentleman;  to  Penn  Asheton  Curzon, 
Esq.,  for  the  use  of  the  very  rare  copy  of  "  King 
Richard  III.,"  printed  in  1597;  to  the  Master,  and 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Smith,  librarian,  of  Dulwich  College, 
for  the  Manuscripts  relative  to  one  of  our  ancient  the- 
atres, which  they  obligingly  transmitted  to  me ;  to  John 
Kipling,  Esq.,  keeper  of  the  rolls  in  Chancery,  who  in 
the  most  liberal  manner  directed  every  search  to  be  made 
in  the  Chapel  of  the  Rolls  that  I  should  require,  with 
a  view  to  illustrate  the  history  of  our  poet's  life;  and 
to  Mr.  Richard  Clark,  registrar  of  the  diocese  of 
Worcester,  who  with  equal  liberality,  at  my  request, 
made  many  searches  in  his  office  for  the  wills  of  various 
persons.  I  am  also  in  a  particular  manner  indebted  to 
the  kindness  and  attention  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Davenport, 
vicar  of  Stratford-upon-Avon,  who  most  obligingly 
made  every  inquiry  in  that  town  and  the  neighbour- 
hood, which  I  suggested  as  likely  to  throw  any  light  on 
the  Life  of  Shakespeare. 

I  deliver  my  book  to  the  world  not  without  anxiety; 
conscious,  however,  that  I  have  strenuously  endeavoured 
to  render  it  not  unworthy  the  attention  of  the  publick. 
If  the  researches  which  have  been  made  for  the  illustra- 
tion of  our  poet's  works,  and  for  the  dissertations  which 
accompany  the  present  edition,  shall  afford  as  much 
entertainment  to  others,  as  I  have  derived  from  them, 


268  FAMOUS    INTRODUCTIONS 

I  shall  consider  the  time  expended  on  it  as  well 
employed.  Of  the  dangerous  ground  on  which  I  tread, 
I  am  fully  sensible.  "  Multa  sunt  in  his  studiis  (to  use 
the  words  of  a  venerable  fellow-labourer  in  the  mines  of 
Antiquity)  cineri  supposita,  doloso.  Errata  possint 
esse  multa  a  memoria.  Quis  enim  in  memorice  thesauro 
omnia  simul  sic  complectatur,  ut  pro  arbitratu  suo  possit 
expromere  ?  Errata  possint  esse  plura  ah  imperitia. 
Quis  envm  tam  peritus,  ut  in  ccbco  hoc  antiquitatis  mari, 
cum  tempore  colluctatus,  scopulis  non  allidatur  ? 
Haec  tamen  a  te,  humanissime  lector,  tua  humanitas, 
mea  i/ndustria,  patrice  charitas,  et  SHAKSPEARI 
dignitas,  mihi  exorent,  ut  quid  mei  sit  judicii,  sine 
aliorum  prcejudicio  libere  proferam;  ut  eadem  via  qua 
alii  in  his  studiis  solent,  insist  am;  et  ut  erratis,  si  ego 
agnoscam,  tu  ignoscas,**  Those  who  are  the  warmest 
admirers  of  our  great  poet,  and  most  conversant  with 
his  writings,  best  know  the  difficulty  of  such  a  work, 
and  will  be  most  ready  to  pardon  its  defects;  remem- 
bering that  in  all  arduous  undertakings,  it  is  easier  to 
conceive  than  to  accomplish;  that  "the  will  is  infinite, 
and  the  execution  confined ;  that  the  desire  is  boundless, 
and  the  act  a  slave  to  limit." 


..'       °^  THE 

UNIVERSITY 

OF 


¥ 


bALir 


RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED       ,  ^  ri  Y 


I  LOAN  DEPT. 

—       This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 
Zi  on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 


^.^ 


Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall.  ( 


^M  ^ 


9  ^— 2GH'iv'f>ABP 


-'D  LD 


^       f^CV  1  4  -£& 


12 


'-^•^•^tj  I  bL 


wEC'O  LP 


DEC  12  130  i 


ISfear'B'^JP 


^M  S 


^^v  B  aaOBU 


RECD  L^ 


MAR  1 3  19(1? 


a30ei62KB 


I  :„C-D  LP 


JAN  1 0  1^B3  ^ 


RIRY 


^ 


M 


Z,         LD  21A-50m-8.'61 
(Cl795sl0)476B 


General  Library  ^^o(Weg 

University  of  California  '***^:n::;; 

iALIfORNU  lIBflARY   OF   THE    UlTVlRSITY   OFlUIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


^^      r>v  ^  /O  ^^^^=^^S^      r-/^iY/Av-,    ^^=:iSi5^s^^i^       >-       ^v^ 


^  ^  /::: 


F  CUIFOHNIt 


^=saig^  Qy-\\Q  "^^^S^n:^ 

UBRtRt   OF  THE   UmVERSIIV  OF  CtLIFORIIU 


LIBRA 


e^^=^i'fefc===^  i 


